


He Has A Name

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: AU, Angst, Asexuality, Child Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Implied or Off-stage Rape/Non-con, Incest, M/M, Panic Attacks, Stridercest - Freeform, Trauma, aannnnnnngssst, descriptions of rape, everything except character death ahahahaha.............., fuck there are probably a shit ton of triggers JUST BE REALLY CAREFUL?????, mute!dave, oh my god there is angst up the ass in this, pleeaase be careful, uhhh okay so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2017-11-14 10:07:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 18
Words: 20,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/514097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave is saved by a man on a motorcycle. Saved by the orphanage that ran an illegal brothel, where Dave was one of the most desired.</p><p>After all these years, that shit still haunts him and it only makes sense that maybe<br/>just maybe<br/>he would start falling for the first person to ever extend any kind of genuine kindness to him.<br/>and maayybe that same person might feel the same way.<br/>it's all very fucked up, and both the brothers struggle with reaching a point of comfort in their relationship, struggle with the guilt and the growing.<br/>[unfinished and orphaned.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Side A [Dave]

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Laura [Outstrider]](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Laura+%5BOutstrider%5D).



> this is a little gifty for Laura  
> because it started out as a drabble i wrote her when she wanted mute!Dave  
> and now it's become a full-blown fic????? i have no idea how long it's going to be but. here it is.  
> it's going to have fluffy Stridercest  
> but the relationship is going to be screamingly unhealthy and inappropriate, however fluffy it may be.  
> seriously this is going to be one hell of a fucked-up ride and i'm pretty sure i'm going to burn for this.  
> it'll be worth it as long as Laura enjoys it though ;u; ;;  
> bonus points if anyone else enjoys it c':

 

He can’t speak.

 He sits by himself next to his old, hard bed, not speaking, even when the other kids come to tease him, probably glad that they’re not in the same group that he’s in. 

 He is a Special One, one of the Whores sold out each night, and rather well-in-demand because his red eyes were “ _exotic,_ ” his hair “ _sexy_ ,” his skin “ _smooth as milk_.” 

 (The kids that mess with him are not, in fact, other Special Ones; they have their own fucking problems. None of them, however, make any attempt to befriend him, to include him in their fragile circles. He is alone, and they have each other. They do nothing when the other kids, the fucking privileged Untouched bastards, come along to play.)

 He never says anything, has no voice to say anything, takes everything handed to him, abuse given by the highest bidder, abuse given by the so-called caretakers, abuse given by the children-turned-bullies (how can he blame them, he’s lower than they, and they need something to take the pain away, right?).

~

He used to cry, once upon a time. He was six years old, and they had just found him, curled up near a dumpster behind a McDonald’s. He couldn’t remember what happened to his mother, but he thinks she died, and he cried. He cried and he cried and the caretakers didn’t like it, so they beat it out of him. They beat each wail and tear out of him until he made not a single sound.

He can’t even speak, now.

It suits them just fine, though; if he can’t speak, he can’t complain or bitch or moan. He can’t curse at the men entering him each night, opening him up and having their way. Or at the women with their long claw-like nails raking down his skin, teasing him (and he fucking hates it) so he’ll stay hard for them, and having their way. They all coo at him and yell at him and curse at him and /laugh/ at him, and he can’t scream when they make him bleed, can’t cry when they’ve made their messes and leave him, cold and sticky and used, a mere shell of a child.

He’s scarred and his voice is gone and the other kids make fun of him for it and the clients make fun of him for it and the caretakers make fun of him for it and everything just always hurts, all the time, all the fucking time.

He’s only ten years old. He’ll be eleven soon, but he knows nobody will give a damn.

He doesn’t really hate anything. He didn’t really  _love_ anything, either. He was barely alive, barely breathing, sold out to the highest bidder each night (because who doesn’t want to fuck the freak?), made an example of each day, and this isn’t life, this is Hell.

He may as well be dead.

~

Sometimes, people come to this place. When this happens, the kids are all groomed and made-pretty, their beds cleaned and made up, and they spend a few days beforehand cleaning everything. And then the people come.

The people come and they open those big doors so the people can enter, and they all look at the children and smile and make comments and talk talk talk.

He usually tries not to be seen. He isn’t all that excited to be someone’s exclusive whore. It’d be harder to hide, harder to not-exist.

One of these days, however, it occurs to him.

The doors

open.

They fucking open.

Because sometimes the children go outside to play on the rickety old playground and

_The doors are fucking open._

And it occurs to him that _he hates everything._

He hates everything and he’s sick of all of this shit.

So he runs.

~

They catch him several blocks away, after he’s run into a man trying to climb onto his motorcycle, knocking him over. He couldn’t apologize because he has no voice (beaten they beat it out of him), wouldn’t have time because they do it for him, dragging him away and he’s staring into the shades on the man’s face in fear.

The man says nothing, watches. Knows the look in the kid’s eyes (the man's a master at reading people) and grips the handlebars tightly.

~

He’s beaten. Again. And thrown in isolation, all by himself in a cold closet, empty and _alone_. He isn’t whored out, he’s been marked as a delinquent and so he’s no longer the sweet little freak, the gentle little monster who doesn’t bite or yell or scream. His brief anger and hatred is beat away and he is just a shell again, but that changes nothing. Clients still fear him.

He's oddly okay with this.

~

They let him out. Someone has an interest in him. They have all the papers and everything. They have a lot of  money, too. They don’t mind that the little freak has a secret rebellious streak and he is terrified he is scared.

He never wanted to be someone’s personal whore.

He doesn’t get a choice though; this someone has pleased the caretakers, charmed them, apparently, and send someone to drag him out to his new owner.

It’s the man he crashed into. The one with the bike.

They tell him to say hello to his new father, snicker when he can’t even utter a squeak. 

The man is blank-faced. Expressionless. It scares him. He follows him out anyways. Follows him out to the motorcycle and it’s a scary contraption, sleek and black. A helmet is placed over his head, heavy and big and the straps are confusing, so the man does it for him.

The man hops on, then, stares at him and it’s a few minutes before he realizes he’s supposed to hop on, too.

“Hold on tight,” the man says, and his voice is low and it makes a low vibrating rumble. “Gonna getcha home, Dave.”

Dave.

He has a name, and it’s Dave. How could he forget it (because every night and day the names changed, or he didn’t have one)?

Dave clings to the man tightly and they take off.

He has no idea that life isn’t going to be what it has been.


	2. Prologue: Side B [Dirk]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's a little rushed, i think, but that's because there was some detailing i didn't feel like writing because i felt it'd be too boring and not really all that important to the story as a whole. if anyone has questions, i'd be happy to answer. so. :'D

Prologue: Side B [Dirk]

 

Despite what some may think when they look at the DJ in his cool hat and weird shades (that are only cool because _he_ wears them), his life actually isn’t all that exciting.

He spends a lot of his time working on his web sites (who knew there were so many sick fucks just like him who had a thing for stuffed puppets?), stitching up puppets of his own invention, having them perform lewd actions. While it’s all rather distasteful, it is pretty harmless on a whole. And who knew someone could make so much bank with smutty puppets? Anyways, he’s often out buying new material or going to business meetings in obscure bars downtown.

When he’s not doing that, he’s mixing his music, getting ready for the show at the Dersite Moon dance club he does every Saturday. He sometimes goes to his favorite record store (it’s a fucking miracle it’s still around) and looks through the vinyl, looking for something old (or new) to spice his shit up and make it even more sick than it already ways.

There are a lot of nights where he’ll go out and find someone to keep his bed warm for the night, and he’ll be sated by the flesh of another living being for that brief time only. They’re pretty much always gone in the morning, and he’s okay with that.

Yes, Dirk Strider does all of these things, but his life isn’t all that exciting. Ever since his sister hopped town with her daughter on her hip and her martini glass in her hand (“thoshe dumb assholes down at the lavatory-- I mean, _lab'ratory_ , don’t... don’t know _shit_ , Dirky. Sho I’mma go t’ New Yorrk, gonna show ’em.”) , he hasn’t really had anyone to strife with or even talk to all that much. That was maybe a year or two ago (or longer, maybe?), but no matter how used to being lonely someone can be, they still don’t have to like it. Such is the case with Dirk.

Today is no different from any of his other days. He’s at his record shop and he’s looking for /something/, he’s looking for  _anything_ that could maybe give a new spin on his sound. He flips through the records here and there, hoping for that _something_ , looking, looki--

Oh.

Oh, mother shit  _yes_.

He found an old record he listened to from when he first got into spinning (he was maybe twelve, thirteen at the time?) and he could definitely maybe do something with it that can make the men jizz and the ladies cream and everyone will love it.

He pays for it, having to stop himself from grinning (nobody could ever tell except Roxy, and she’d always call him out on it. He wonders how she’s doing.) as he heads out.

He’s about to mount his bike when he hears something. 

He looks up just in time to see some kid, a boy, crash into him, nearly knocking both Dirk and his bike over. He’s about to bitch at the kid when down the street come a couple of suit-wearing douchebags (at least, they look like douchebags. He can’t say for sure, but _something_ about them bothers him). The kid looks up at him, mouth open like he’s going to apologize, and Douchebag One and Douchebag Two cut in.

“Terribly sorry about that, sir. You must excuse him, he’s rather misbehaved. All the other children at the orphanage avoid him, and today he’s run away, and I hope you will forgive blah blah blah blah blah”

Dirk loses interest in what they’re saying rather quickly. He’s more focused on the look in the boy’s wide, frightened ( _red_ ) pupils. He knows what that means, knows how to read people, knows how to understand people, and he knows that this boy isn’t happy.

He’s terrified, and Dirk isn’t sure he’s okay with it (why the fuck should he care it’s just some strange orphan that ran into him it’s not a big deal!) but it is a big deal because the way the boy looks at him and looks at the Douchebags isn’t your normal run-away problem child.

It makes him feel sick, and he grips his handlebars tightly, feeling the leather around his hands stretch as he watches them drag the boy up the street ( _Be careful with him he doesn‘t look older than twelve years old_!).

He’s not sure what that boy’s been through, but he can’t shake this feeling that it’s sure as fuck not any good.

He chooses to do his best to ignore it.

~

He can’t ignore it.

He’s been trying to live his life normally for days and he can’t shake it out of his head, can’t escape the image of the boy (he looked skinny as all hell and pretty shaken-up -- had Dirk seen a bruise on his arm?) trying to get away from the Douchebags and it wont leave him alone, wont let him be.

It’s driving him insane and he’s not really sure why he suddenly finds himself looking into adoption procedures, looking up local orphanages. He’s not sure what the fuck he’s thinking. He definitely isn’t father material. He’s only twenty-five, and isn’t he still pretty fucking young, way too fucking young to be trying to be a parent (didn’t stop Roxy, though, did it? But then, she was always kind of just _built_  to be a mother, despite her vices. She'd taken good care of the both of them growing up.), too young to be looking into adopting some kid that ran into him on the street?

The kid’s eyes haunt him and his brain shuts up.

He’s going to do this.

He dials a number on his cell.

~

He pulls up at the place and it looks...

Well, it looks like a normal orphanage, to be honest. Even if he can’t shake this sickening _feeling_.

He enters, giving his name to the receptionist. The young man nods excitedly, going back into the office, comes out quickly and smiles widely at Dirk.

It unsettles him, makes him want to punch him.

A woman in a sharp suit and tall heels meets him, smirk on her lips, and she shakes Dirk’s hand, introduces herself.

“We were worried nobody would want him! He can be such a problem, sometimes. I’m glad you’ve shown enough interest in him, though. He’s been hard to find a home for.” Her laugh is cold, unreal, unauthentic, and Dirk hates her.

He’s led to a room where he’s supposed to wait for the boy (Dave, he’d been told was the name. He’s waiting for Dave. His... son.).

Not too long after, the boy is presented to him, and he looks no better off than he had when they first met. The boy looks surprised to see him, looks scared, too, and Dirk feels something inside him twist. What has this kid been through? It hurts to see this. This poor kid looks like he’s been through hell and back. Multiple times.

“Say hi to your new father, dear.” The woman’s tone is insincere; she only cared about the large sum of money Dirk had put on the table when they’d tried to dissuade him from choosing their “problem child.”

Dave says nothing. Dirk says nothing. He’s starting to get the feeling that maybe there's more to Dave than just refusing to say anything.

They finish filing paper work and other such things (Dirk notices the notes saying Dave is a mute, and things make a little more sense to him. He‘d have to find a way to communicate with this kid.), and Dave is pushed towards Dirk as he starts to make his way outside.

Dave’s terrified. Dirk can tell. He’s terrified and untrusting and Dirk feels something that are most likely paternal instincts he didn’t realize he had. He has to stop himself from uncharacteristically giving this kid the biggest hug he possibly could.

He helps the kid ( _Dave_ , his _son_.) with the spare motorcycle helmet (understandable; they’re a bitch to buckle if you don’t know what you’re doing.) and urges him to join him on the bike.

He brings the kid home.

His life isn’t so boring anymore, though he has no idea exactly to what extent, and not a single fucking clue exactly _how_ much it's going to change from here on out.

 

 


	3. Prologue: A Meets B [Striders]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i swear this is the last part of the prologue.  
> if anything is inaccurate, please let me know.  
> also i just really like the idea of Aradia teaching ASL. it seems suitable. i figure she'd know a lot of languages anyways, wanting to go explore other countries and whatnot. cutie.  
> i was going to say something else but i forgot what it was oops. i hope you enjoy!

Dirk had done his best to prepare his one-room apartment for a new tenant, moving most of his shit to the living room and deciding to take residence on the futon, giving the bed up to his... little bro (he’s decided that he’s much more comfortable with being thought of as a brother than a father.). So when they arrive, he leads Dave up the stairs to the apartment, then past the futon to Dave’s new room.

Dave is scared and untrusting, his heart pounding as the door is opened to a near-empty room with a bed supported by cinderblocks (but definitely more comfortable-looking than his old one) and _oh god_.

This must be where the man will have his way with him. He hadn’t expected it to be so _soon_ , but he figured - he’s been bought, it‘s bound to happen eventually. So he swallows and looks up at Dirk, trying to find an indication as to what he‘s supposed to do.

Dirk is expressionless, and it scares Dave even more. He stares, unsure what he’s supposed to do. Is he supposed to undress? Wait to be undressed? Approach the bed? Wait to be dragged? Dirk does nothing, though, and Dave doesn’t know how he’s supposed to feel about this.

Dirk, meanwhile, waits for Dave to make a move, but all he’s doing is _staring_  and he looks so _scared_  and Dirk decides he hates that. This kid doesn’t deserve to be so scared all the time, and it hurts that he would even be afraid of _him_ , even though he’d just saved him (though from what, he has no idea. He isn‘t sure he wants to know.).

It occurs to him that Dave doesn’t even realize that he’s been saved.

“So, li’l man, this is gonna be your room.” He says this after realizing the only thing he‘s said to the kid so far were instructions on the bike. Oops. “You can do whatever the fuck you want to it, I don’t give a rat’s ass. I know that bitch back there said I’m your dad, but I’m just your Bro, ‘kay?”

Dave blinks, slowly, trying to comprehend what’s being said. So he wasn’t about to be violated once more? It was his room? _His_? 

He wants to inquire, but isn’t sure how; nobody’s ever cared what he thought, so nobody’s bothered teaching him how to communicate.

Dirk figures this to be the case and nods to him; he‘s been thinking about options on the way here (writing, ASL, etc). “I’m gonna be in the living room, so if you need anything, just... like. Throw somethin’ at me or somethin’. We‘re gonna start learnin’ shit together tomorrow, kid. ASL. So maybe you’ll be able to actually give some input. Unless you wanna write shit down or somethin‘. I figured it‘d be easier if you didn‘t have to rely on a pen.” He leaves because, shit, this is awkward enough and he isn’t sure what to do and why the fuck did he do this in the first place?

Dave stares at him as he closes the door behind him, stares at the closed door, and stares some more. He finally backs up until he falls onto the bed, would yelp if he had the voice to do it.

The entire thing is confusing him, makes his head hurt, and he’s tired.

He doesn’t realize it when he falls asleep.

~

Dirk searches the internet for somebody, _anybody_ , who would give... private ASL lessons, he supposes? He searches and searches but to no avail. He’s frustrated. He needs to find someone he can actually really /trust/, and that’s not easy in such a short time frame, not easy in even a long time frame.

This would be easier if he knew somebody--

He remembers.

High school. A girl and her best friend. That poor kid was deaf on top of paralyzed, stuck in a wheelchair. He got the short end of the stick, but he had this friend who was always with him. Dirk remembered because he observed everybody, noted the pair dully now and then, wonders if he can...

He pokes around online, finds a number, and makes a call.

~

Aradia was more than happy to agree to coming over, to talk to Dirk, to meet Dave. She smiles when she sees Dirk, and the exchange isn’t as awkward as Dirk thought it would be. He sits her down and explains his situation, and she listens, a grave expression on her face.

In his room, Dave hears the door open and close and he curls up against the wall by his bed, heart pounding _oh god it's started_ , having forgotten what Dirk said about “learning something together.”

Dirk asks and Aradia agrees to it quickly. She shakes her head as she tells him, “nobody should have to go through life without a way of communicating. Can’t say I know what’s going on in that place more than you do, but writing only goes so far.”

She’s willing to teach them, and asks to meet Dave.

Dave is wary of her, just as he’s wary of Dirk, but she’s a patient woman, and doesn’t stop smiling as she introduces herself. She signs as she speaks, a habit picked up from years of hanging out with her best friend, she tells him. She tells him she’ll teach him how to communicate, teach Dirk so he can understand him.

Dave is wary, but he thinks he likes her. Sort of. Maybe. She’s not the first person to be nice to him and then suddenly change, like they have a switch inside, change into a monster who wants to fuck the freak.

She’ll start teaching them tomorrow, then, since she has class in an hour and has to leave. 

~

That night, Dirk orders pizza. It arrives and he brings a plate to Dave’s room, knocks before entering slowly, offers the plate.

Dave blinks at him, takes it carefully, eyeing Dirk. Still, he wonders when Dirk is going to stop this facade of niceness, when he’s going to push him into the mattress, rip off his clothes, open him up--

“Hey, li’l man, you okay?” Dirk approaches him and Dave’s breathing is getting quicker, heart is going wild, and he stares at Dirk, wide-eyed, tries to back away. The plate falls to the floor and Dave is shaking and he wants to cry and he doesn’t want to do this anymore, doesn’t want to be a sex object anymore and he’s just so _scared_.

Dirk isn’t sure what he’s supposed to do, tries to get closer, but that only gets Dave more worked up, pushing himself against the wall. He looks ready to cry, so scared, trembling and Dirk’s heart is breaking.

“H-hey, I’m not... I wont... Dave, I’m not going to hurt you. Promise.” 

Dave shuts his eyes tightly, curls up, wraps his arms around his knees, shakes his head. He can’t breathe.

It kills Dirk to see the kid like this, breaks his heart all over again, and he wishes he knew what he could do. He doesn’t get closer, but he continues to reassure Dave, backs up against the door to show he doesn’t intend to hurt him.

“Don’t forget to breathe, man. Look, I’m leavin’. Will that help?”

Dave doesn’t look up.

Dirk figures he needs to do more research. Was that a panic attack? A breakdown?

He hates himself for it, but he leaves.

~

He returns later, again with pizza because wow this kid needs to eat _sometime_. 

He’s slower when he opens the door.

Dave is curled up, sleeping.

Dirk wasn’t even aware that he was holding his breath, and he releases it now.

He’s quiet when he approaches, has always been good at that sort of thing. He tucks the kid in, which is pretty goddamned domestic of him, but what else is he supposed to do?

He ends up leaving the pizza in the fridge for breakfast, making a mental note to make a conscious effort not to touch Dave at all.

~

Aradia’s back the next day, all smiles and cheeriness. Dave is no less suspicious. Dirk has said nothing all morning.

They begin the lesson.

Dave’s actually doing pretty well, and Aradia beams at him, encourages him. Dirk watches, can’t help but feel a little proud. Aradia notes that he’s a fast learner, and that pride swells.

Look at him, all paternal and shit. Or, broternal. Whatever be the case.

She leaves.

“Good job, little man.”

The only time Dave’s ever heard those words was from the moaning lips of clients, but they sound much different right now. He can’t help but kind of actually like the feeling he has from it.

~

Dave’s getting better and better. His signing is still very learned, practiced, but Aradia assures them both that it’ll look more natural with practice. He’ll get more comfortable with it, she says.

He signs tentatively, sometimes asking for food or for permission to do something.

Dirk is actually really excited about the whole thing, though he doesn’t show it. He’s really fucking excited that he might actually be able to have a conversation with this kid. His so-- brother.

~

Dirk receives a heavily-perfumed letter, can’t stop the stupid grin on his face when he recognizes it.

Dave is timid when he asks about it, and Dirk shows him the name on the envelope. “Our big sister’s comin’ home.”

~

Dirk didn’t realize how much he missed her, had spent years out of contact with her, and is all too willing to hug the shit out of her when she runs to him, smelling like perfume and alcohol, and he spins her around and she’s laughing and this bitch never changes.

Her daughter (he nearly forgot he actually had a niece.) exits the car quietly, a small smile on her face as she watches.

Dave is watching as well, nervous as ever. He doesn’t know what any of this is supposed to mean, doesn’t yet know the words to sign his confusion. He notes the girl, probably as old as him, and tries not to be surprised when she _doesn't_  begin to push him or laugh at him. She merely smiles, approaches, holds out her hand. “Rose Lalonde,” she says, and it sounds like she’s trying to be grown up. It sounds kind of funny.

He signs out his name, even though she probably wont--

“Nice to meet you, Dave.”

Oh.

They stay for a while (three weeks and two and a half days, Dave's counted). Roxy’s been told again and again not to try to hug Dave (she whines about how hard it is when he’s so god-damned adorable, but understands; Dirk’s explained everything to her) after her first attempt, which had sent him running to his room.

Rose talks to Dave a lot, helps him with his signing (she says that she’d heard about him, started teaching herself), and other than the occasional teasing, isn’t at all cruel to him. Dave decides he might actually like her.

Dirk gets smashed. Roxy laughs and falls onto his lap and they talk. It’s been years; they’ve both missed each other so much. There’s a lot to catch up on.

~

Both Striders are secretly devastated when the Lalondes leave.

~

Devastated they may be, life continues.

Weeks pass and Dave is signing more and more. Dirk is constantly proud even if he says nothing.

Dave’s starting to trust him more, not as timid, doesn’t flinch away as much as he used to.

Dirk’s watching The Outsiders when Dave actually joins him on the couch, almost touching.

Life continues to get better for the both of them.

 


	4. Chapter One: Normal Saturday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay starting off a teensy bit slow but from here it shouldn't be too hard to get the ball rolling c:

Chapter One

 

Dave never shuts up.

Not technically speaking, since he’s mute and can’t utter a sound. That doesn’t, however, stop him in any way from _talking_. 

His hands seem to move a mile a minute, and he signs and signs and Dirk can’t bring himself to look away because, for one, his brother is trying to tell him something and it’s not like Dirk can just ignore him. That’d be fucked up. For two, he actually kind of likes it. He likes to watch the kid’s hands move, natural in said movements, and it’s kind of (fuck him, this is cheesy) beautiful.

It’s a fucking miracle when a kid’s able to communicate, especially Dave. It’s like when a kid is learning how to talk for the first time and their parents get their panties twisted in pride, but after a while, they forget what a blessed miracle it is at all. Dirk doesn’t, though. 

Needless to say, he’s become pretty adept at reading sign language.

Today, it was about some kid and his birthday, apparently? Dave was asking for something, and his hands seemed a little shaky, nervous. Something expensive, insisting that this is something totally ironic and cool and it really needed to happen because it was going to rock this Egbert kid’s socks off or some shit.

Normally, one wouldn’t think Dirk would be up to spending so much money on some old ratty rabbit, but with all the talking Dave does, he rarely ever actually /asks/ for anything (always seems too scared and tentative), and he seems pretty set on this. It explains why he’d engaged a strife the other day. Dirk wonders idly how long he’s been planning this.

_i mean he got me these sick-ass shades i gotta top that come on man it’d make you the coolest bro ever i mean you already are the coolest bro ever but like it’d top the echeladder of cool it--_

“Okay, hey, cool it, little man. You’re goin’ faster than a human should, and you’re gonna end up startin’ some real fires there. I’ll get the thing for you.”

Dave stops mid-sign, gapes at him from behind aforementioned shades.

_no shit?_

“Nope.”

Dave’s excited, and Dirk thinks maybe he was able to shut him up.

  
_cool_ , is all he says, and Dirk has to fight the smirk because it’s always amusing when Dave tries to regain his ‘cool’ after losing it. He’s pretty fuckin’ positive that Dave is missing something on the whole ironic coolkid thing, can’t help but find it endearing.

He ruffles his hair and continues to his own laptop, hyper-aware of the slight twitch Dave gave at the contact, berates himself silently. Dave doesn’t like a lot of physical contact; he knows this well. Usually he lets Dave engage any of that.

He still has no idea what happened to the kid before he got him, never pressed for it. Roxy told him that Rose probably knows, has this whole psychoanalysis obsession or something, and said she’s pretty good at it, even if she doesn’t always quite know when to cool it. He declined. If Dave didn’t want to talk to him about it, he didn’t want to talk to him about it. He kind of wishes he would, but he figures if it’s bad enough to get the kid to lose his voice, then the kid doesn’t have to say shit about it.

He’s really just glad that Dave isn’t the same terrified shell of a child he was when he first came here. Still twitchy and a little timid at times, but to be honest? He’s come a long way. Dirk’s proud of him, even if he doesn’t really say it all that much.

So he buys the stupid bunny, knows Dave’s probably pissing himself with joy, and the knowledge makes him feel a little un-ironically fuzzy inside.

Dave’s signing thanks in what’s probably as many ways possible through American sign language, which is nothing new, and Dirk just nods in acknowledgement.

He leaves, and Dirk estimates a 98.7% chance that he’s probably telling Rose, but that’s just a guess - his AR could do better.

He has a meeting to go to, so he gets ready and leaves a note before heading out the door.

~

Life is all levels of good right now. John is going to be completely blown away with this and Dave is the best best bro a kid could ask for, it’s him, fuck yes.

He’s a little surprised that Bro even went for that, actually said _yes_ , actually _did it_. It’s not the first time he’s thought about how fortunate he is (the nightmares remind him, even if he did forget).

He gloated to Rose about how his present is the absolute sickest, and John will love him forever for it. She said that while she doesn’t doubt it, hers will certainly be the most sentimental gift one could give.

Dave isn’t about to argue that. Rose has that whole thing covered. She uses it against Roxy when they have their weird passive aggressive warfare shit (Dave doesn’t try to understand the way they work. He’s not Rose.) and Dave isn’t dumb enough to fight that.

He updates his blogs, starts on the next Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff, talks about nothing with John. He’s fifteen years old and Freshman year is almost over.

Life is good.

Life is far better than it was, even if it took a while to get there.

Dave thinks about this as little as possible. He has other things to worry about, like school, like maintaining the coolest blogs on the internet, like keeping up with his friends.

His friends.

He never says as such to them, but he loves them, loves having them there, loves to talk to them. Loves to talk and talk and talk. He floods their message boxes with streams of nothingness. He supposes it makes up for his lack of voice. Rose tells him it’s probably something else, but he doesn’t even try to listen to what exactly she means (Doesn’t like the implications behind some of the things she says, hates to think about that).

He posts the SB&HJ update, smirks at the rising number of views. People will read anything and eat it up. It was, without a doubt, super cool.

His day is, for lack of a less cliche-way of putting it, completely and utterly normal. Not necessarily boring. But normal. For a Saturday.

The sun is silently screaming but he figures he’ll go out to take some pictures, anyways.

~

The sky is getting dark when he gets home, unsurprised to see that Bro hasn’t returned yet. Who knows how long he’ll be tonight?

So Dave flicks on the TV, watches Fresh Prince of Bel-Air reruns until he passes the fuck out.

~

Dave fell asleep on his futon again. Which is adorable, but Dirk’s exhausted. He knows better than to just fuck everything and flop down, though. He’s careful, ninja as fuck, when he picks his brother up. If he woke up, it would only mean disaster, he knew that much. The only time Dirk ever touched him beyond hair ruffling or shoulder-patting was when this happens. Which was why it was such a good thing he was so _good_  at being a ninja badass and _not_  waking up his brother when picking him up.

He takes Dave to his room and tucks him in like the good motherfucking parent he feels he isn’t.

 


	5. Chapter Two: Cool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ehh a little short and maybe rushed? fffff my apologies;;

 

 

Dave tells himself (and his friends) that the reason the other kids avoid him is because he’s so fucking cool they’re intimidated.

He knows it’s really because they don’t like him (why would they? He’s a freak.) and because they think he’s deaf because he never talks and he’s just really weird but it’s a lot more fun to pretend that it’s because he’s so overwhelmingly cool because Striders are the coolest of the cool to begin with.

It’s all very complicated.

Today is another shitty day at this shitty high school, though. Dave is barely paying attention, spending his time doodling in his notebook, texting John and Rose under his desk (Jade’s probably passed the fuck out, no surprise there), and wishing it was over.

Another shitty day where he’ll hear people talking shit about him during lunch, where he’ll secretly wish he really was all that cool. 

He wishes he could be anywhere near as cool as his Bro (because it’s impossible to be _as_  cool as Bro, Bro is the absolute _coolest_ ). He spends today’s lunch thinking about this. He spends every day’s lunch thinking about this.  He’s actually been thinking about this a lot lately. Wonders off-handedly if that’s kind of weird.

He thinks about after school. Bro wont be home, and he’s kind of not looking forward to that. Not that he’s not used to being alone. Doesn’t make it anymore enjoyable or pleasant. 

It’s no biggie, really. He’s got a shit ton of cool things to do. Yeah. Definitely.

Only not really.

~

Dave will be home soon.

Dirk wonders if he should leave, wonders if Dave likes having the house to himself, wonders if Dave’s avoidance of contact doesn’t stop at just physical.

He wonders this every day, and usually ends up leaving, just in case.

Worry about his little bro aside, he can’t seem to make himself stay. Something scares him, and he’s not sure what it is, and he’s not sure he wants to know what it is, and he feels like if he’s there when Dave gets home after _six_   _years_ of being absent until a later hour, he’ll find out and it scares him.

This is all very stupid, he tells himself. Breaking some habit isn’t going to be like that. Really fucking stupid, and he has better things to do than sit around thinking about shit that most certainly _does not_ scare him.

He leaves, intends on springing a strife on the kid when he gets back in a few hours. It’s been a while, and he wants Dave to be able to kick ass (so he’ll never go through hell again so he wont be so afraid anymore so--)

Dave will be home soon, after all.

~

Just as suspected, there isn’t a sign of Bro anywhere.

This is normal.

It’s also a little disheartening.

Only, no, it totally isn’t. Dave’s fine, he’s totally fine (so he tells himself), and he continues to do what he usually does after school.

John is making dinner with his dad and Rose is still in school, but Jade’s awake, which is awesome because she’s seriously a cool chick, and Dave likes to talk to her, even if she’s a little weird. But that’s perfectly okay - he’s weird, too. They all are, but they’re all still really fucking cool. That’s why they were friends.

Has he mentioned how much he loves his friends? And not even ironically?

They’re cool, and he couldn’t ask for better friends (even if it’d be pretty cool if he could have someone he can hang out with and actually talk face to face with that /isn’t/ over a monitor. He again thinks about his bro, again feels that loneliness.) and he spends a good chunk of his afternoon talking to them.

He then makes his way to the kitchen and

_holy mothershit fuck PUPPETS_

(and it’s times like these he’s almost glad he doesn’t have a voice because he’s secretly pretty sure he would have screamed if he could)

and he knows what this means, and it kind of sucks because he really should have seen this coming.

He makes his way up to the roof, shitty sword in hand.

~

He’s gotten better.

He’s gotten much better and Dirk feels a swell of pride. He’s nowhere near good enough to even be close to beating Dirk yet, but he’s _better_ , he’s  _improving_ and Dirk is really fucking pleased with this.

He watches every move, every parry, blocks every incoming swing but Dave has definitely gotten _faster_ and more alert and fuck, he could shed a tear of brotherly pride.

He still wins, though, to no surprise.

But he’s still proud and so when he finishes off the strife, he jerks his head downwards, to the street.

“Wanna eat out?”

Dave stares, and Dirk knows he knows, can see it in his poorly-hid expression, and he’s pleased as motherfucking punch.

“Sure.”

~

Holy shit he pleased his brother made him happy and _everybody needs to know about this_.

~

He takes him to IHOP, proposes a movie to which Dave nonchalantly agrees to (he silently gives props to him for said nonchalance).

They go. They throw popcorn at the screen and Dave revels in his ability to make all the fucking commentary he wants without being shooshed and Dirk can't help but watch everything he says the whole time and it’s actually a lot of fun. Dirk kind of misses this, wishes he could do this shit more often.

Dave ends up passing out as soon as they get home and Dirk sits in bed and thinks about his brother’s hands.

 


	6. Chapter Three: Nightma-ma-ma-mares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops a little short again;fdjskaf;;;  
> i just had to get this idea out  
> i hope the pacing isn't too out of whack

Her voice is silky venom, her laugh cold and her nails painful as they tweak at his  nipples, pull at his hair, smacking him with the urgency to _stay hard, stay hard, little boy, that’s right, yes, god, yes, fuck yes_  


It hurts and he wants to cry  but he wont, he never does, has learned not to.

Breast shoved into his chest and she’s all around him with stifling perfume, making him choke and she slaps him again and everything hurts and he can’t breathe and--

~

Dirk hears a thump from Dave’s room, doesn’t panic even though the feeling wants to rise up in his throat and he runs.

Dave is on the floor and he’s twistingtangled in his sheets and Dirk doesn’t hesitate, is kneeling on the ground when he calls out to Dave, tries to grab onto Dave’s sporadically-moving hands.

“Little man, come on. Wake up.”

He’s freaking out on the inside but he stays calm, he _stays fucking calm_ , because the last thing he needs is for Dave to see him lose control. They’ve done this before, but it never fails to scare the everliving shit out of him.

~

Dave feels pressure on his hands which is odd because they always grab his wrists ( _his chest, his legs, hisdickhiseverything_ ), not his hands. He hears his name, his actual name, and it’s calling to him and

He’s in the land of the living, his ( _freakish_ ) red eyes open and staring into the amber of his older Bro.

Bro’s squeezing his hands and calling his name with his low, rumbly voice and there’s nobody else here, nobody touching him or fucking him and everything’s okay and

he wants to cry, doesn’t want to cry, but he starts to anyways and this fucking sucks.

~

He’s crying and Dirk never knows what to do when this happens, wants to cry with him but doesn’t, wants to hug him but knows way fucking better than that, so he just holds his hands because Dave’s never minded that when he gets his nightmares, keeps holding them and says nothing.

~

Bro doesn’t let go of his hands even if he softens his grip, doesn’t move, doesn’t ridicule him like he thought he would.

Dave’s chest is heaving but the grip around his hands is constant and unchanging and comfortable and he starts to calm down.

~

He decides it wouldn’t hurt to maybe--

~

He’s humming.

It’s not really a song, it’s just humming. But it’s low and warm and he likes it. He’s calming down more, the tears drying and Dirk’s grip loosens even more, and he’s scared to look up but other than that, this is really nice.

~

Dave’s calmer so he decides to switch it up a little.

~

Oh my fucking god he’s humming Lady Gaga.

He can’t really do anything about the weak smile on his face, and he can’t help but lightly squeeze his brother's hands, wishing he could hum with him..

 


	7. Chapter Four: Bonding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy fucking crimeny i just wow  
> i've been meaning to say it for a while but holy crap the attention this is getting is literally mind-boggling for me and i just want to thank you all for reading this and the kudos and everything and wow i am just so glad people are enjoying this i  
> i tried to make this chapter longer than the others. unfortunately it ended sooner than i wanted it to, but i'll be working on getting longer chapters from now on  
> and just  
> thanks  
> wow  
> thanks a lot  
> i  
> fjdksalfs

 

Dirk’s been thinking about Dave a lot.

Like, a lot more than usual, that is.

He thinks about that small smile when he helped him the other night, has to hide his own smile, feels pleased with himself because he made his brother smile (regardless of the fact that he’s the one who taught him not to show his emotions), and there‘s something in his chest that he’s not sure he wants to identify.

He’s been thinking about these things a lot lately.

Dave’s playing video games in the living room, and Dirk watches from the hall, silent. Dave’s expression is unmoving, but Dirk can see the small tenses and twitches, the concentration in it. It’s kind of adorable. Some day, he’ll get the hang of it, Dirk thinks fondly.

He makes his way to the futon, joins Dave, sits at an angle where he can still observe his little brother.

~

He’s watching.

Dirk’s watching him and he’s aware, he can feel the shaded gaze and it makes his skin prickle and his heart beats a little faster.

He has Dirk’s attention. Maybe not all of it, but he has it, and it makes him happy.

He nods in his direction, feeling jittery that he’s so close to him right now. Part of him feels apprehensive having someone so physically close, the other part keeping itself relaxed because it’s Bro. Bro who saved him from the hands of strangers on a nightly basis, from Hell itself.

He scoots a little closer, making it seem he’s getting more comfortable.

~

Holy shit.

Dave just moved closer on his own accord, and Dirk feels fucking _special_ , if one could believe that.

Dave trusts him with that much.

~

Yet he’s nervous. What if he’s thinking about what a fucking disappointment he is?  What has he done to be earning his brother’s attention right now? He can’t recall doing anything specifically good, so maybe he did something rather bad?

~

Dave’s grown a lot, he notes. He’s a good kid and he gets stronger with each strife. It’s endearing to see him try to be as “cool” as Dirk, and Dirk hopes he’ll get out of his shadow some day, make his own and have his own cool.

Dirk’s fucking proud.

He remembers the terrified kid that ran into him and his bike five years ago,  the withdrawn ways, the avoidance and yet he lets Dirk sit with him now. He wonders if Dave trusts him. He hopes he does. He’s been working so hard to make the little man comfortable, working hard to keep him safe.

And here he is, closer to him. Nervous, yes, definitely.

But Dirk’s his big brother, his guardian, and his protector, and he wont abuse this trust, wont abuse his role.

He lets himself smile.

~

He’s smiling.

It’s small, but it’s there, a twitch in his face.

_omgholyshitfuck_

~

Dave defeats the boss. Dirk compliments him.

~

Is it fucking Christmas.

~

Dirk relaxes himself, settling into the futon as he watches Dave, watches him play.

~

Dave’s nerves settle down and he resumes paying attention to the game, still hyper aware of his brother’s presence but adjusted to it. It’s been a while since the two of them have had their special brand of family bonding, other than a few nights ago at the theatre.

Dave is thankful.

He grows tired of the game, and they switch it to TV, looking for some shitty movie to watch.

~

Dirk is reminded of the first time they watched a movie together, feels nostalgic, feels pleased.

Dave falls asleep after some time, head tilted and body relaxed, and Dirk can’t bring himself to move him this time, instead watches T.V. after the movie finishes, not disturbing his brother.

He glances at him often.

The kid’s... well, he’s beautiful, he can’t help but think. It wasn’t just in his freckled skin, the curve of his lips, how his hair seems so soft and in place. He was strong, getting stronger, someone to admire when he’s older. Hell, someone to admire _now_ , being able to function and adapt well enough after... after whatever it was that happened to him before Dirk took him in. Not to mention taking the whole unable-to-speak thing like a goddamned champ.

Dirk feels an overwhelming sense of affection for the kid, his determination to keep him safe flaring up at the thought of Whatever It Was. Despite teaching Dave how to defend himself, the idea of him ever having to use that knowledge terrifies him.

Dave’s hands twitch, as if to sign something, and he sighs in his sleep.

Dirk’s heart skips only slightly, and it troubles him. He’s getting closer to identifying what it was and he feels this ominousness starting to make its way over his mind.

...He realizes that he’s scared.

He looks at this kid, this beautiful fucking _child_ , wearily, swallows.

A deep feeling of disgust is starting to take root in him, and he decides to go out, leaves Dave to sleep on the futon after covering his hands softly in parting.

~

Bro’s gone when he wakes up, and there’s a hollow feeling.

They seem to be spending more time together lately? It certainly feels like it and Dave is extremely pleased, talks to Rose, talks to Jade, talks to John about it. Tells everyone. His brother is The Coolest, absolutely no fucking contest.

Doesn’t mention how he wishes he stuck around, feels he should be happy they had some bonding to begin with.

It’s Sunday morning, so he doesn’t have to worry about going to school, obviously. He makes his way to find something in the kitchen, dodges the traps, doesn’t get assaulted by puppet ass, finds some ramen. 

_fucking score_

_absent bro aside_

_its a good fuckin day_

Nevermind the fact that he can’t stop thinking about him, about how his lips twitched into a smile,  _he_ made that happen, how comfortable it’d been.

Can’t stop thinking about the warmth of his low voice when he talked him out of his nightmares.

Can’t stop can’t stop can’t stop.

He’s not sure what this means, doesn’t know if he wants to know and yet he _does_ , his cheeks lighting up so faintly.

He allows himself a sigh, and tries not to think about how the apartment feels a little emptier than it usually does.

 


	8. Chapter Five: Strider Senses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys continue to blow my mind with your support holy shit i love you all ;o;  
> this chapter is a little short and a little self-indulgent but i ended it where i felt it was right to end it off with so =3=

Dirk dreams about him.

He dreams about small, rare smiles, pretty red eyes peeking over dark glass, trembling hands that sign Dirk’s name, sign about school or his friends or this sick new song he heard or _everything_. He dreams of holding those hands, of small kisses and more-frequent smiles.

Dave’s always in his dreams and it scares him so, so much.

He wakes up, without any sudden movements, eyes just opening. He checks his phone, notes that it’s one in the afternoon and Dave’s in school.

He remembers his dream, groans softly, rolls over. Fucking disgusting. Holding that kind of feeling for his _kid fucking brothe_ r--

The phone rings.

He answers and his ear is immediately assaulted by the slurred voice of one Roxy Lalonde, and the smile is automatic. He still manages to answer in a deadpan, “sup, Ro-Lal.”

She laughs and giggles and rambles about nothing and everything and it’s amazing how this girl can always make him feel better,  and though she doesn’t call often, she always calls at just the right moment. He wonders if she has some kind of Strider sense. Heh.

It’s a comfort to hear her voice. He can almost smell her alcohol-perfume-mixed scent.

She talks about how Rosie’s growin’ up, has a girlfriend and she’s so proud (bought her a box of frilly panties to celebrate in the passive aggressive way they have), did very well on her last test and immediately had the test framed and put on display. Rose responded to this by buying polish for the frame.

Dirk is always amused with their little passive aggressive warfare, and can always count on Roxy to fill him in with all their ‘battles’ when she calls.

She asks about Dave.

His comfort starts to fade, cold sweat building.

He tells her he’s well, talkative as ever, struggling in school a little but not to where it’s an actual problem. He still has nightmares. Dirk is worried but knows better than to press him for it.

Roxy sighs and tells him he’s a good brother.

Dirk feels a chill, denies it quietly. She immediately demands to know what’s wrong.

And even when she’s inebriated beyond all hell, she’s able to pick up on that kind of crap.

He insists it’s nothing, he’ll deal with it, it’ll be fine.

~

Roxy listens, sipping her martini, as Dirk tells her not to worry about him. Which is ridiculous. Why did he think she made this call? Her Strider Sense was tingling, after all. She could always tell when her brother wasn’t completely content.

She listens, he talks about nothing, trying to drown the subject with his dumb irony. She’s obviously not convinced, lets him think she is even though she knows he knows she isn’t.

She trusts him, though. If he says he’ll sort it out, he will. And if it gets too out of hand for him, whatever it is, she knows he’ll come to her.

It’s been their way since they were kids, and people don’t change _that_  much.

So she lets him take the conversation away, smiles at hearing his voice, couldn’t be happier to at least be talking to him. She’s been so busy lately, but she always has time to address her  Strider Senses.

~

She knows something’s up, he knows she does, but he’s grateful when she lets him gloss over it regardless. He loves his sister dearly, and this is one of the many reasons why.

Eventually, she has to go, and he regrettably lets her, bids her good-bye fondly.

She could _always_ make him feel better.

He lets his phone drop to the floor, sighs.

He still has this problem. The problem is small and blonde and currently in school and spoke with his hands and absolutely beautiful and this needs to stop.

He sighs again, remembers what he told Roxy about handling it, hopes he doesn’t eat those words.

His eyes shut tightly and he only sees his younger brother and it’s disgusting and his heart aches and he’s starting to wonder if he can handle this after all.

 


	9. Chapter Six: Thinking About Kissing and Stuff

Dave really hates physical contact. It scares him, reminds him of things he doesn't want to remember (but does anyways), of things that still come after him when he sleeps. If anyone gets too close to him, he tenses up and uses some bullshit cooler-than-thou excuse to get away.

There are exceptions, though.

For instance, he thinks about his three best friends and thinks that if he met them (minus Rose, since that’s happened a few times, already.) in person (some day!), he wouldn’t mind if they got close. 

He knows Harley and Egbert would want to hug him, and he would just have to deal because he’d rather sleep on a bed of smuppets in the middle of a highway than disappoint them; they’re touchy kids. John for being doted on his entire life and Jade for lacking any more doting than a dog, apparently.

 Rose isn’t much of a problem; whenever she visits, she’s always cautious and never extends physical contact without his knowing first. She picked up on it rather easily, which is no surprise to anyone. He’s always appreciated that, even if it gets really fucking irritating how much she pries into his brain. Crazy broad. However, if she ever wanted to hug him, he might not mind. Maybe.

But, yes. He’s pretty sure his friends would be an exception.

Then there’s Bro.

They don’t have a lot, but there are small things. Little things that he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind it when Bro ruffles his hair (even though he’ll usually bitch about it) and he doesn’t mind sitting close to him when they watch T.V. and he certainly doesn’t mind when he holds his hands during a nightmare (that’s a secret, though.)

It’s weird because any other instance, he hates not being able to use his hands. He can’t talk without his hands.

But the things that haunt him never held his hands, never tainted them for him, so perhaps that balances it out.

Regardless.

The point here is, he’s been thinking about physical contact a lot. And Bro.

He thinks about those times they _do_  happen to sit close together, the warmth that seems to float between them. Like an aura of comfort, but that’s a shitty way to say it. Waves of cool, maybe (still shitty, but better).

He thinks about Bro holding his small hands in his bigger, rough hands more calloused than his own, and how nice and comforting it is.

He thinks about those big, comforting hands ruffling his hair, touching the top of his head gently. Not much about Bro is gentle, but there are moments, and these are some of them.

And, recently, he thinks about kissing.

Kissing Bro, to be more precise.

Before, the idea of kissing revolted him. He hates kisses. He hates the invasive tongues and cruel teeth behind sloppy lips, hates to think of how they’ve roamed his body.

But, upon entering high school and being subjected to dozens of sloppy make-outs and not-so-sloppy kisses behind teachers’ backs, he realized that there’s such thing as a chaste kiss without all the tongue and teeth and saliva. He thinks about that kind of kiss, that doesn’t take much more contact than two sets of lips, and he thinks of Bro. 

He feels shame, a heating in his cheeks hidden by too-big-for-his-face aviators (courtesy of John Egbert) and a burning-like-coals feeling in his gut. Simultaneously, however, his heartbeat picks up a little and his breathing catches and there are butterflies among the coals and he’s going to stop there before the metaphor runs too far away from him.

Anyways. Bro. Kissing. Shame.

This is seriously stupid. Not to mention, gross and sick and wrong.

But Bro’s always been genuinely caring about him, in his own special way. He saved him from those Things, and always respected him when it came to that and

_stop_

_jesus fuck strider just stop_

He realizes that he almost passed his apartment, chides himself for being an idiot, and continues home.

~

Dirk’s at his computer when Dave comes in (the only time he‘ll ever be home when Dave gets home). He’s been uploading some new pictures on plushrump.com and looks forward to how it’s received. He turns his head to nod in greeting, and Dave nods back and heads straight for his room.

Dirk watches as he left, a little surprised (not disappointed, not disappointed, _not disappointed_ ) he didn’t stop to sign about his day or something. But then, he’s generally a little more withdrawn than usual when he noticed Dirk was working. 

Dirk appreciates this, goes back to his work. He was almost done anyways.

After his work, he decides to check up on Dave. Seriously, that’s it. Just checking up on him. Really.

“Sup,” he says, head tilted and body against the doorframe.

Dave’s laying on his bed, an unopened text book next to him (at least he made the effort to almost try doing his homework, Dirk thinks idly), and he signs back.

hey

“You even gonna try doing your homework?” Wow, suddenly he’s a parent again. Reminder that this is the person he has feelings for. Sick fuck, he thinks to himself, cringing on the inside.

maybe

what even is the point

im gonna pass the test like that

“Not gonna help your grades as much as you think.” 

fuck bro its fine i got this

Dirk knows he should probably abscond at this point, but doesn’t want to. He wants to watch his brother sign more, can’t think of anything to get him started on one of his rants and he can’t fight the feeling of disappointment.

“If you say so, little man.”

He stands there, and it’d be awkward if it was anyone but him. It is him, though, so it totally isn’t awkward.

~

Bro’s standing in his doorway and he should seriously just leave because Dave’s heart is pounding so much harder than usual and this is fifty shades of uncool. He doesn’t leave, though. He just stands there and Dave starts to squirm inwardly because he can feel the gaze through the pointy shades and he just wants to be alone with his dumb, confusing thoughts.

At the same time he wants Bro to stay, wants to hold his hand and wow he’s such a fucking girl, does he actually hear himself?

Finally, he turns over onto his stomach, opens the stupid textbook without bothering to sign his concession to his brother.

~

He should leave. Dave’s actually attempting his homework Dirk just leave.

So he does like the idiot he is.

He sits on his futon with the T.V. on, not actually watching it, thinking about his little brother (practically his fucking /son) in his room who’s doing his homework for once and has beautiful hands he’s the Devil he’s the worst he doesn’t deserve to raise a kid, especially not this one, not Dave.

~

He actually finishes his homework for once, which is quite the fucking accomplishment.

So now he’s alone with his thoughts since nobody seems to be on Pesterchum.

Again, he thinks of physical contact.

And Bro.

And kissing.

And kissing Bro.

Chaste kissing. Not that revolting French shit.

And basically he’s kind of disgusting, having these thoughts about his older /brother, of all fucking people.

He sighs, (doesn’t think about how there isn’t even a slight vocal sigh) closes his eyes and basically he’s being a dramatic fucking teenager staring at the ceiling and thinking about his stupid crush on his brother.

~

Dirk’s getting antsy, hates just sitting there thinking about how worthless he is, decides to check on his brother again because he’s that horrible.

There’s no answer when he knocks (a courtesy) and sees Dave passed the fuck out when he opens the door.

Again, he can’t help but think about how beautiful he is.

He watches like the fucking creeper he is, as Dave’s back lifts with each breath, how his eyes flutter slightly, how he’s curled up around his pillow and that’s just so goddamned precious, Dirk’s almost tempted to take a picture.

He’d tell himself it’s for blackmail but really it’d be some dirty secret of his, hidden away deep in his computer where Dave wouldn’t be able to find it, just for him.

It scares him how he realizes he just thought that.

Just for him.

Dave.

_His._

_Stop that, Strider._

He decides to leave for his gig early tonight, to get away from his beautiful, perfect, precious little brother.

~

Dave senses Bro opening the door, starts waking up but doesn't open his eyes.  
He's just standing there and Dave gets chills thinking, what if he's watching? What if he--

That's a dumb idea, though. Dirk would probably toss his ass out on the street if he knew about these gross feelings, let alone actually returning them.

That was impossible, but it was nice to dream.

What if he did feel the same way? What if he thought about Dave as much as Dave thought about him? What if--

No, no. Not possible. At all. Seriously. No, really.

Wishful thinking never got anyone anywhere.

 


	10. Chapter Seven: Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow everyone is so awesome i am going to cry seriously thank you so much you guys fjdklsajsdkfdlsd  
> i'm really glad you guys are enjoying this! i was just thanking the lovely Laura today for the inspiration for this - it is her giftie after all ;u; i'm just glad so many people are able to enjoy it, too! ;___; you guys are awesome thank you.

It’s ridiculous how well she knows him, messages him right when he’s contemplating making the next SB&HJ about bros kissing bros. That girl is un-fucking-canny, and even if it was severely annoying most of the time, it was actually endearing sometimes.

This is not one of those times.

Dave does not want to discuss his feelings for his brother, does not want Rose to delve into his brain and pull it out kicking and screaming, does not want to think about how she’d even react to such a thing, what she’d think of him...

So he does his usual deflecting when she inquires about his brother, about how he’s doing, how he’s feeling, her usual fucking prying.

Okay, so this is one of those times where it’s actually endearing. He likes that she cares so much, likes the fact that she knows him so well, loves her dearly and while he doesn’t out and say it, he tells her in his own way. She understands, tells him she cares for him and reminds him that she’s here for him, should he need her assistance.

Dave wouldn’t know what he’d do without her.

Thinking about that only reminds him that he wouldn’t know her if Dirk hadn’t saved him.

Thinking about that only makes him think of Dirk in entirety and his brain’s thinking about that dumb kissing thing again. Such is his life. 

It’s disconcerting; he’s never felt this way for anyone before, doesn’t know what to do with it. It’s not like he can let it fester, this is his /brother, we’re talking about here. Dirk would be so disgusted with him...

But, wow, he can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop wishing Dirk wasn’t his brother so he could be free to have these feelings for him, wants to accept the daydreams of hands touching, watching stupid movies while leaning against him without freaking out, wants to feel his breathing, feel his heart--

He’s not going to cry. It doesn’t hurt that bad, it doesn’t hurt that bad, it doesn’t, it doesn’t, _it doesn’t._  


~

It hurts so much and he hates himself for each moment he feels the pain. The pain that was the fact that he was in love with his younger brother and it swirled in his heart and his gut and he wanted to vomit. It’s hard not to cry, not to mourn the sickness that was his mind, mourn the pain in his heart, mourn the disgusting love he has for Dave.

Dave, Dave, Dave, beautiful Dave with beautiful, graceful hands and beautiful eyes staring from behind his stupid shades. Dave who looked up to him so much, depended on and trusted him so much, who loved him (as a _brother_ r, Dirk, you sick fuck!) so much.

He’s disgusting, decides to take a shower, wondering idly if maybe he can scrub away the revolting feelings.

~

He shouldn’t be crying because he shouldn’t have this problem to begin with.

It’s tempting to message Rose again, to spill everything to her, confess every last vile thought in his head, and he never fucking wanted this. He pulls off his shades to make it easier to wipe the stupid tears away but they only increase in number and this is ridiculous.

His crying is soundless aside from quiet gasps and sniffling, and he’s again almost thankful that he can’t produce the sounds to go with it (only not really) and his fingers curl into his hair and why does this hurt so fucking badly?

~

He wonders if it would be a terrible thing to check up on Dave, doesn’t even bother convincing himself it isn’t but can’t stop himself from knocking before wrapping his hand around the doorknob.

~

_fuck hes about to come in shit shit shit_

He can’t dry his tears fast enough, and he is unable to look away from the open door, from Dirk who stands in the doorway, expression perfectly stoic as they stare at each other.

Great. Just what he needed. Dirk to see how stupid he is, see his stupid tears, and mock him, never let him live it down, god forbid he actually knows _why-_ -

~

Dave is shades-less, eyes wide and it’s hard to miss the fact that he was just crying.

Dirk feels his heart break, can’t stop himself from slowly approaching the younger Strider, kneeling before the computer chair to look up at him. He gently pulls Dave’s fists out of his hair, expressionless as ever as he asks him, voice soft, what’s wrong.

~

His hands are trembling; he’s not sure he could answer even if he wanted to. Still, he shakily signs

_nothing its nothing_

_no big deal_

_dont worry about it everythings fine_

Dirk’s not buying it, though, even if Dave really wishes he would, doesn’t want him to know about his heart pounding at the close contact, how breathing just got harder just being in the same vicinity.

“C’mon, little man.” It’s so comforting to hear his voice, the soft voice he loved so much, the same one that told him to hold on tight that day when he was saved from Hell.

its stupid

really stupid bro you dont even know

“Try me.”

Dave wants to tell him, wants to _confess_ , like he’s some kind of shoujo schoolgirl confessing to her crush, and it's positively  _revolting._  


~

It’s breaking his heart so much to see Dave like this, shaking, trying to tell him to go away, shutting him out and he hates this so much. He wants to hold him tightly and kiss away his tears and he could feel disgust rippling in his stomach at the very thought.

_just some guy_

_no big deal_

_ill be fine_

Dirk frowns, gently covers Dave’s hands, can feel the trembling beneath his palms, feel the shaky breath from his brother’s lips.

“Obviously, it is.”

~

He’s so close to him, hands covering his own and he’s always appreciated how Dirk respects his space while being close at the same time, always appreciated how much Dirk actually gave a fuck about him and it’s really tempting to lean down and kiss him right now. His heart is pounding at the thought, and it’s really tempting, _really, really tempting_.

~

Dave makes no move to tell him, doesn’t shift, seems to be thinking about something.

Dirk doesn’t have any time to ponder what could be wrong before he feels it.

~

He leans down, unable to help it any longer, and his lips brush Dirk’s so very lightly.

~

Dirk’s mind is blank. He can’t think of anything, is barely registering the fact that Dave is kissing him. It’s sweet and soft and chaste and enough to send his heart skyrocketing and he can’t even believe this is even happening.

~

**_shit._ **

~

He’s too scared to move, scared it’s a dream, confused if it’s real, confused either way, doesn’t know what to do.

Next thing he knows, he’s pushed away and Dave’s gone, slamming the front door behind him and Dirk’s pretty sure he’s never seen his little brother move so quickly.

~

That was probably the stupidest thing he ever could have done and he hates himself so much for it, runs away, needs to get far away from Dirk even if leaving is scary. He doesn’t know where he’s going to go, but he keeps going. He can’t ever go back, can’t ever face Dirk again, has never felt more embarrassed, doesn’t know what to do with himself so he just keeps  running.

~

Dirk doesn’t follow, is too bewildered as he falls back on his haunches, trying to process everything that just happened.

Dave was crying.

He tried to help.

Dave kissed him.

Dave kissed him and ran away and he _kissed_  him.

Dave.

Kissed him.

It was like the mantra of a broken record, repeating in his head, _Dave kissed me, Dave kissed me, Dave kissed me_.

Dirk figures Dave probably really wants time to himself, wants to run after him so badly (wants to kiss him back, to smooth back his hair and hold him gently despite his usual rough treatment) but doesn’t. It’s probably best he let Dave have his time while he sits on his floor having his own time, turning over the dumb aviators in his hands as he imagines the eyes they usually cover.

~

Dave can’t run anymore, but he can walk, panting as he walks down the street, sun hot and unmerciful upon him, and he laments to himself about his stupidity. He ends up walking on the path of a park. 

He wants to go home. He wants to apologize for being a disgusting piece of shit.

No, he really wants to kiss his brother again.

But that’s gross.

His heart hurts.

He sits down on a bench, head in his hands, noting how he forgot to grab his shades and feels all the more stupider for it.

~

It’s getting dark. Dave hasn’t returned. Dirk tries not to worry and fails.

That’s enough of that, he decides, donning his jacket and grabbing his keys.

 

He finds him an hour later by pure chance, having asked around and some older woman pointed him in the right direction, commenting on how she’d left a blanket over him. Dirk tries not to be bitter that the _bitch didn’t try to do anything more than that this is his precious kid fucking brother whom he loves more than anything, doesn’t she realize that??_  


He finds him and he’s passed the fuck out on a bench. Dirk wakes him up and proceeds to drag his ass back home.

Nothing is signed nor said between the two of them the entire ride home.

Even when they get home, they go to their respective spaces, don’t mention anything.

Both of them have a hard time sleeping that night, both having heartaches and headaches from thinking far, far too much.

 


	11. Chapter Eight: Strife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like this one's a total mess but here take it i've been staring at it forever jfdksaf

It’s been a week.

It’s been a week and neither of them has said anything to the other. There’s a conversation that’s waiting to happen, and it sits in the air, heavy and suffocating. Neither want to address it, both terrified of the consequences, of what would happen.

 

Dave sits in his room, nowhere near as social as he used to be, and he mulls over what he’d done, thinks about how his older brother’s lips felt against his and feels shame, so much _shame_  that he buries himself under his covers.

His phone goes off numerous times, all texts (and a few calls undoubtedly made by a certain John Egbert who probably forgets that Dave can‘t really talk. Not out loud. He can‘t help but feel a fondness for him when this happens.). He can’t be bothered to even make a show of being okay, doesn’t want to talk to anyone.

He does want to kiss his brother again, though. He keeps thinking of the way Dirk tensed in surprised, how he fled immediately after. And now he wouldn’t even talk to him (which is probably good; he isn’t stupid. He knows how wrong it is. He knows what that conversation will be about).

He knows it’s going to happen because he can’t just sit, embarrassed as fuck, forever. The Rose in his mind tells him this. Even when she doesn’t know what’s going on, she somehow worms her way into his head.

He sighs, closes his eyes, thinks again about his brother’s lips.

 

Dirk’s mind hasn’t stopped reeling, he hasn’t stopped thinking about it, hasn’t stopped /remembering Dave leaning forward, lips meeting his own.

His heart fucking flutters. 

It flutters because his kid brother kissed him.

He’s scared. He’s fucking terrified.

He’s never been, nor has he ever claimed to be, the most morally-sound person. This is too much, though. This, he can barely handle, can barely comprehend because incestuous crushes is a completely different ballpark. Even if it isn’t by blood.

Dave’s fucked up enough as it is. Whatever he went through (and Dirk has to be honest with himself; he knows that kid suffered a myriad of kinds of abuse, from emotional to physical to sexual. He doesn‘t need the details to know how damaged Dave is.) did a number on him, and Dirk wasn’t about to contribute to that.

But Dave kissed _him_.

He shakes out the thought. He’s just a kid, he can’t possibly...

But he knows that he does. There was something so fucking /honest about that kiss, and it scares Dirk.

Back to the point. He’s terrified because he doesn’t know what it means. Doesn’t know if he should pursue it (worries that he even considers the option, feels his stomach churn in disgust).

Perhaps Dave is just confused.

That is probably the most reasonable conclusion he’s had all week, even if something doesn’t quite sit right with it.

He wishes he wasn’t so head over heels for his brother. He wishes they could go back to before, their slowly-progressing relationship. But isn’t that what started this mess?

 

Dave’s heart aches as he wakes up from a dream in which Dirk is holding his hand gently, a kiss on his lips. He sighs heavily before rolling over and dozing off again.

 

This has gone on long enough.

 

Dave wasn’t expecting his door to suddenly be kicked open. He sits up in alarm, looking up at Dirk, his expression one that clearly stated what he was thinking

_what the fuck?_

Dirk tosses a shitty sword on the bed, disappears.

Dave feels a strange sense of relief as he picks it up and makes his way to the roof.

 

It’s a relief to be interacting with Dave again, and things almost feel completely normal as they strife, sword meeting sword. Again, Dirk feels a swell of pride at how well he’s holding up, how he parries most of his attacks (but certainly not all) and it’s all better, everything’s better. After this, they’ll have a nice talk, clear everything up. Dave will move on and Dirk will live with his guilt but Dave will be happier and /they will be back to normal.

 

The sun is barely starting to go down and they are still at it. Dave can hardly keep up anymore, breathing heavy and ragged, but doesn’t stop going at it. He needs to be completely exhausted. He’ll apologize after this. He’ll apologize after he’s too tired to put up any dumb charades and everything will be better.

 

Basically, this was the plan for the both of them. Tire out. Talk. Be Better. Have some pizza. Go back to normal.

Dave ended up falling, Dirk catching him with an, “easy there, little man,” hauling him up to help him downstairs, treading cautiously so as not to upset him.

 

Dave’s too exhausted to freak out at the contact, is more than happy to lean into his brother as he helped him back down to the apartment. He’s too tired to sign to him, too tired to feel like shit anymore. Weakly, he signs out

_sorry_

_my bad_

_im fucked up_

Dirk shakes his head, prepares to cause himself more harm by telling him that he knows, it’s not, it’s...

“Don’t sweat it, man. I know how it is at that age. All the confusion and shit. I know you didn’t mean it so it’s cool.”

It hurts so much more to say it out loud.

 

Dave’s heart is breaking as Dirk tells him he, Dave, is confused and didn’t actually really mean to kiss Dirk. He’s not really sure if he’s breathing and his hands shake a little bit. 

Of course he’d take it that way. Dave supposes there really wasn’t anything huge to worry about in the first place. Other than his huge incestuous homo crush on his brother is unrequited (of course it fucking is, did he really think he’d have a chance with his older _brother_? Why did he even consider the thought?) he didn’t really have anything to be upset about this entire week of hiding away.

He’s not sure what to say, his hands suspended in the air before him as if trying to figure out what to sign.

_confused huh_

_is that what you think_

He’s not even really aware of what he signed.

 

He had to have misread that. He tells himself he did misread it because it implies...

It implies that Dave wasn’t confused, wasn’t just looking for the closest set of lips to mack on, knew what he was doing. It implies that his little brother likes him and the way his heartbeat picks up terrifies him, the fluttering making him feel sick and apprehensive and this horrible sense of excitement and he needs to work harder on breathing because it’s not really working out right now.

“What else can it be?”

 

Dave swallows. _What else can it be?_  

[ _idk bro maybe JUST MAYBE im head over stupid heels in love with you and its sick and wrong but theres nobody else whos cared for me like you have you give a fuck about me and you always helped me out and haha this shit fucking sucks of course he wouldnt even think that i might actually like him_ ]

Other than the trembling, his hands are motionless. There’s a throbbing pain in his chest and he suddenly feels really upset. Hurt. It fucking hurts.

 

There’s a nasty sort of hope making its way into his chest as he stares at Dave’s hands, waiting for a response.

_yeah_

_youre right_

_i thought i might actually be rockin some kind of illegal taboo bullshit crush on you_

_but hey apparently im confused_

_i dont know shit_

His hands still tremble as he signs, not even really aware of what exactly he’s saying. All he knows is that it hurts, it hurts so fucking bad and this is the stupidest shit ever.

_im just some stupid teenager_

_viva la hormones and all that shit_

_even someone as fucked up as me right_

 

Breathing is impossible. 

It occurs to Dirk that maybe, just maybe, Dave having feelings for him wasn’t so farfetched.

With this revelation, it hits him that he literally just broke his little brother’s heart. There’s nothing like not taking a kid’s feelings seriously. He’s reminded of his first heartbreak and this is basically the worst possible outcome.

“Dave--”

 

_no_

_no im fine yo_

_seriously all kinds of chill over here_

_fifty shades of cool_

 

There is so much going on in his head, so many emotions along with utter joy that his feelings are returned and absolute devastation that he just hurt Dave so badly.

 

How could he be so stupid? Why should his dumb crush be taken seriously?

He stands, ignoring how weary his body is, tears prickling his eyes.

_im just gonna go_

_do something idk_

 

Dirk has no time to think, just knows he has to fix this because he never, never, _ever_  wanted to hurt Dave, especially not like this.

In the back of his mind he is acutely aware of the fact that he is going to burn in Satan’s fires for what he’s about to do.

He pulls Dave back by his wrist gently and kisses his younger brother lightly, and it’s pretty much the point of no return.

It’s sick but he can’t help it anymore.

He’d just wanted to fix it, to make Dave feel better (and to kiss him like he’s been wanting to for weeks).

 

Dave has no idea how much excitement his heart can take, having been crushed and now lifted as Dirk kisses him, and the kiss is sweet and chaste and Dave’s head is spinning, eyes closing as he accepts it, returns it.

 

“Sorry. So sorry.”

He apologizes for hurting him, for loving him in such a taboo manner, for being the monster he is, for failing as a guardian.

 

Dave’s crying but he’s hardly aware as he signs

_what are you talking about_

_are you fucking stupid_

_if that was some pity shit i swear to fucking god_

 

“No, no. It wasn’t. It wasn’t pity, I swear.” He should have lied, he tells himself. He shouldn’t be encouraging this. He shouldn’t, he shouldn’t, but he wants to so bad because it’s hurt for so long and he’s tired of it, tired of longing and feeling sick and depraved (he’s probably always going to feel sick and depraved, that can’t be helped). “I’m sorry.”

 

_youre not fucking with me right_

_haha jokes on dave_

_making fun of his stupid crush on his bro_

“I’m not that much of a dick.”

_could have fooled me._

 

Ouch.

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”

_whatever bro can we just kiss again already_

Dirk obliges, terror and joy running through him as he again kisses his brother chastely.

 


	12. Chapter Nine: Rap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow guys sorry about the wait  
> and the shortness  
> i was typing up the next chapter and then. my laptop crashed and i'm an intelligent human being who doesn't save her work SO YOU CAN IMAGINE. it's been a little hard getting the motivation up to rewrite it, but i finally got it. so. :'D  
> also if this thing updates without a chapter in the next few days, i'm messing around with how i'm writing the story  
> you wont have missed anything promise  
> [i'd do it now but i am feeling lazy =3=]

 

Obviously it was the wrong thing to do.

Dirk knows this. He knows this, he fucking _knows_  this, but cannot shake the memory of Dave being so close, of the gentle kisses, sweet and chaste.

His heart pounds, and he feels sick because he’s in love with his little fucking brother.

Who apparently feels the same way.

He knows this because the soul-crushed expression on his face when he tried to deny his feelings to Dave.

He hasn’t felt this happy in far too long.

He also feels disgusted with himself.

He rubs his temples, glances at the time on his cell. Dave will be home soon. Dirk knows he should leave. He should go. If he’s still here when Dave gets home, a break in a pattern that’s been in place for years, Dave might actually think they’re a thing--

But they _are_ a thing. He knows better than to go back on what happened like that. The idea of treating it like a game crossed his mind, but he can’t do that, can’t possibly-- 

Dave would be... he’d...

Dirk refuses to be the one to break his little brother’s heart like that. He couldn’t be.

And perhaps, he didn’t want his own heart to break, either.

 

School’s out. Dave’s heart is pounding, pounding, pounding as he makes his way down the street, on his way to the apartment.

He wonders if they’re official. If they’re actually a thing. His heart aches, thinking if it was just a dream or another one of Dirk’s games.

Ouch. That one was a painful one. One that gripped him in a cold grip, making sweat build on his palms, making him swallow while his throat is dry. What if Dirk is just fucking around with him? Like he always does?

He hesitates outside his apartment (which is dumb; he knows Dirk’s probably gone, much to his disappointment), hand hovering above the doorknob.

He still has time before Dirk gets back. He knows this, so why is it so hard for him to touch the damned thing?

_this is stupid_ , he thinks, finally opening the door.

He drops his bag at the door, heading to the kitchen for apple juice, but stops when he sees 

 

Dirk has been waiting at their sorry excuse for a dining table, a glass of apple juice at one end, his own orange soda at his.

“Sup,” he says, nodding his head in greeting.

 

Dave’s heart has stopped. Clearly, this has just happened. He can’t breathe because _Dirk is actually home when he arrives_. His lips part, eyes wide, and his trained neutral expression has disappeared for several seconds before he reels it back in, swallowing again as he composes himself. He signs back in greeting.

_hey man_

_special occasion?_

“Somethin’ like that. Take a seat, little man.”

Dave does so, nerves buzzing under his skin as he stares at his brother, waiting. His hands hover over his lap, ready to sign.

“So. Last night. We--”

_kissed_

“...Yeah. Yeah, we did. And there wasn’t much talkin’ with all the mackin’ goin’ on.”

_hey you kissed me back_

 

Dirk sighs. He knows. Yes, he definitely knows.

 

“So I did. Still gotta talk.”

Dave’s nerves haven’t calmed. He blinks, tries to keep his breathing steady.

_breakin up with me already bro?_

His hands tremble.

 

Dirk frowns. He’s spent hours going over how this would be the smarter thing to do, so--

“No. Hell no. I wouldn’t do that.” Couldn’t do that. Chickened the fuck out. Sick, sick, _sick_ bastard--

_so whats up then_

_whats the problem_

Inhale. Exhale.

“You know this... this isn’t okay?”

_what_

_having not so ironic homo feels for your bro_

_lovin more than family_

_yeah p sure its so  not okay the shits illegal_

“You’re cool with that?”

_wouldnt have kissed you if i wasnt_

The blunt, sharp movements of his hands, so fucking /certain/, terrifies Dirk.

“You know what you’re getting into?”

_duh_

This is a lot harder than he’d anticipated.

“I’m serious, bro. It’s not just the family thing. I’m also a fuck ton older than you. You’re still a /minor--”

_do i give a shit_

_ive been feeling like some kind of dumbass for maybe a year now_

_and then you tell me that im not the only fuckup in this family_

_i think im pretty fucking chill with this development bro_

 

Dave reaches over, hand brushing Dirk’s. He knows he doesn’t have to clarify when Dirk takes his hand, holds it tightly, brows furrowing just a little bit (something that would be unseen by anyone else).

Neither say anything more.

 


	13. Chapter Ten: Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my fucking god guys i am so sorry holy shit  
> i guess i should have left my tumblr so you guys could check up on me because i have been so busy moving into a new apartment and i had a con and there's just been a lot of shit going on that i've posted about there so, so. and wow i am just so sorry ;n; thank you so much for any of you who are still with me on this.  
> as an apology i offer you this short but sweet chapter and i hope you enjoy.

It’s been a month.

Dirk knows he’s going to burn in hell for this but he can’t bring himself to stop and he can almost forget how much he loathes himself for all of this ( _almost almost almost_ ).

He’s yet to tell Roxy about it, and he’s pretty sure the same goes for Dave and Rose. He knows it’s only a matter of time. He knows this is some shaky shit. He knows he’s probably totally in for it when they find out.

He can’t stop it, though. He’s absolutely fucking smitten and it’s horrible and it’s disgusting but he’s in love with his brother and that’s just how they are.

He loves what they’ve become.

He and Dave exchange small kisses, whenever one of them leaves or returns to the apartment. They spend more time together watching TV and sitting close, hands holding whenever Dave isn’t spewing his commentary.  Dave ends up curling up next to him, barely touching, on the futon most nights, and the two sleep in peace like that. Shit was damned near domestic, and Dirk was happy enough to push away the self-loathing and feelings of failure away.

He’s in love with his little brother and said little brother returns the feelings and really that in itself is a miracle.

God, they were such fuck-ups.

He hoped he hadn’t ruined Dave any more than he’d been, hadn’t fucked him up too badly. He knew Dave would probably find another, some day, and he both hated and felt grateful for that fact.

Right now, however, he tries not to think about it; Dave is conked out next to him on the couch, having passed out a half hour ago. He’s been watching him fondly, fingers curled around Dave’s, trying to think about how sweet his brother looks sleeping like this.

His phone rings. He wonders if he can just enjoy this, ignore the ironic ringtone that he knew was work, ignoring, ignoring...

He exhales when it stops ringing, eyes closing.

Just a moment later it rings again. Dave stirs, hands twitching, and Dirk sighs.  Reluctantly, he releases his brother’s hand to answer.

He tries to keep his voice down as he tells his manager that, no, he’s not available tonight. No, he doesn’t really want to get into it. Yes, he’s still down for his next scheduled night. That’s cool, but he has things he has to do tonight and he really has to go.

He hangs up and immediately resumes entwining his fingers with his little brothers.

 

Dave’s barely awake when he hears the irritating ringtone, heart clenching when Dirk releases his hand. He doesn’t move, trying not to make any sign that he can hear what’s going on.

He’s pleasantly surprised  when he hears Dirk turn down the job that night, a sort of warmth in his chest. His eyes open and he looks up at his brother, questioning in his eyes.

Dirk’s lips twitch and he gives his fingers a squeeze. “Promised I’d spend the night with you, babe.”

Dave doesn’t remember any such promise, but he smiles in return, a light flush on his cheeks as he squeezes back. He shifts a little bit closer, eyes closing again.

Dirk mumbles something about him being a lazy-ass. He in turn swats at him with zero effort, making his hand flop a little, and Dirk snickers at him, leaning over to kiss the space next to his eye.

He flips to some stupid movie, and the two watch it in absolute silence.

 

It’s a little past two-twelve A.M. when Dirk finally decides to retire, flicking the T.V. off and nudging his brother gently. “’Sbedtime, little man.”

Dave turned over onto his opposite side in protest, causing Dirk to roll his eyes. “C’mon, bro. Time for bed. Up and at ‘em.”

Dave raised a finger that Dirk knew wasn’t supposed to be signing, getting up slowly, sleep already in his eyes. Lazily, he signed,

_good night bro_

Dirk smiled. “Night, kid.” 

It didn’t take too long to pass out, himself, once Dave was gone.

He dreamt of smiles and red eyes and sweet kisses.

 


	14. Chapter Eleven: this shit is stupid but its really fucking important

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god you don't even know how hard this chapter was for me to write. i was having a lot of issues with it because i really really wanted to, as i'm sure you all know, keep it realistic and tasteful and yeah. this is a really important conversation they're having and completely necessary.

 

They sit, side by side, on the roof. A strife has just been won. The victor was, of course, Dirk. Dave came close, though.

The sun is nearly down completely, just a haze of purple and blue on the horizon slowly giving way to black-indigo.

Dave’s hand is covered by Dirk’s, and other than that they aren’t touching, and it’s stupidly intimate and romantic in its own way, and Dirk feels at peace, feels /happy/.  He glances at his younger brother, pale lips together as he stares out at the city.

Neither of them said anything; they just ended up this way.

Dirk catches Dave’s eyes slide over to him, only to snap back when they noticed the glance was shared. Dirk raises a single eyebrow, says nothing.

It happens a couple more times. Dave’s fingers are twitching beneath his. He wants to say something.

“Somethin’ on your mind, li’l man?”

The younger one freezes, fingers still. Dirk pulls his hand away from Dave’s, slowly, a way of urging him to speak.

Dave’s reluctant, fingers twitching again.

“Wassup, little bro?”

Finally, Dave pulls his hands together, posed to sign.

Dirk is quiet, his lips pursed as he watches Dave sign to him. There’s a lump in his throat because the air is suddenly heavy with the promise of a Very Serious Conversation.

_this is gonna sound all kinds of dumb_

_like really fucking dumb_

  
_i feel stupid for even trying to_ \--

His hands are shaking, just a little.

_trying to talk about this_

_its seriously like_

_so fucking stupid that i even have to get all serious about it_

_but its_

_its actually really fucking serious_

_so i swear to fuck if you laugh im strifing your ass_

_this shit is so serious so fucking serious bro_

An eyebrow is raised. It’s a good thing he was so used to watching Dave sign; the kid was going a mile a minute.

“So go ahead. Rap.”

Dave inhales, hands still for just a moment. Then,

_kay so its like this_

_i mean ive just been thinking a lot you know_

_about_

_about us_

_and this thing weve got_

_i mean its really fucking chill even if its not fucked up beyond belief_

_like almost as fucked up as roses tentacles_

_if not more_

_but i mean were a thing and its been like this for like a month_

_and im all over the_

_all over the sappy hand holding and kiss--_

_kisses and shit_

_and im way cool with it like way cool like cooler than ant fucking artica_

_because its not exactly a secret_

_that i cant_

He stops, hands still shaky, and he’s holding his breath.

_touching freaks me out_

_it really freaks me the fuck out like you know that better than anyone_

_you see it all the fucking time_

Dirk says  nothing, only nods to show that, yes, he is listening. Go on. He was right; this is a Very Serious Conversation.

_but it kind of sucks at the same time_

_cause like_

_i dunno man its not like_

_i dont wanna like_

_i mean i just_

He’s getting frustrated and his nerves aren’t helping.

“Breathe, bro.”

He looks up at Dirk, swallows, takes a deep breath.

_i dont think im ever gonna wanna do the whole_

_the whole uh_

_sex thing_

Dirk isn’t surprised; he never figured that would ever be in the equation. He knew better. As if he could ever try to get Dave to do things like that, ever. 

_but that doesnt mean_

Dave pushes his bangs back, exhales.

_i just wanna be able to do stupid sappy boyfriend shit_

_like just_

_cuddling and dumb stuff like that_

_with you i mean_

Dirk will never admit how his heart just skipped a beat, doki-fucking-doki. 

_i just_

_im_

_im sorry bro_

What?

_im sorry i cant be a normal boyfriend with all that touchy feely crap and_

_and that other stuff_

_i dont think ill ever wanna do the other stuff but_

_the touchy feely crap would be cool_

_never got that before_

_and_

_oh fuck fuck_

_this is so stupid_

_nevermind--_

Dave tries to get up, to go downstairs, but Dirk reaches out for his hand, holding it gently but firmly.

“This ain’t stupid, li’l man. This shit is important.” Dirk’s voice is steady, trying to pull him back without forcing him to. “’M glad you decided to talk about it. Now sit your ass down so we can finish this discussion.”

Dave’s nervous and Dirk doesn’t blame him, but he sits down anyways, hands gripping at his scuffed-up jeans.

“You don’t have to apologize for that. Nothin’ to apologize for. Not for that, not fuckin’ ever, you got it?”

Dave stares at him, mouth parted slightly, then back down to his lap, fiddling with his jeans.

“I’m serious, bro. You think I’d get upset just ‘cause I couldn’t bone you? After... after what I know you musta gone through? What kind of asshole d’you think I am?” There’s a bite to his words, though at the same time he hopes he didn’t go too far, mentioning... well, _that_. “And if you wanna do the whole touchy feely crap, then I’m all over that.”

The kid looks from his lap back up to his brother, eyes wide behind his stupid shades, hands over his knees before he finally replies.

_so youd_

_youd be chill if we tried_

_like uh_

_tried being one of those gross touchy feely couples_

The elder’s lips twitched, smirk faint. “Hell fucking yes I’d be chill with that. But we’re gonna take that slow, kay? Don’t want you freakin’ out on me, do we?”

And Dave is staring at him without even attempting to hide the growing happiness and he certainly seems to be breathing easier.

_well i just_

_i didnt want you to like_

_idk laugh at me or some shit_

_cause i mean weve been steady for a while now and i dont want to fuck things up_

_with my stupid_

_well with how stupid i am about this crap_

“’Snot stupid, li’l bro.”

Dave’s trying not to cry. Dirk lets his expression soften, reaches over to ruffle his brother’s hair. “It’s all cool, kid.”

_i..._

He sniffs, hands poised.

thanks man

_i mean it still feels really fucking lame_

_but its_

_its kinda important and_

_uh_

_thanks_

“No problem.” With this, Dirk stands, collects their swords, heads for the escape.

Dave follows, grabs Dirk’s arm.

_hey_

_i love you bro_

He leans forward, and his brother meets the kiss. Trembling arms reach out, nervous, carefully wrapping around Dirk’s waist.

Dirk is surprised, lets it happen without question, knows better than to reciprocate even though it feels weird not doing anything with his arms. This is fucking _important_.

Dave pulls away, rubbing his arms, shaky as all fuck but a smile on his face regardless.

“...Love you, too, li’l man.”

Again their hands meet and they make it back down to the apartment together.

 

When Dave gets to his room, he collapses onto the bed, heart pounding pounding pounding, nerves hitting him even though he already had the Big Talk he’d been thinking about so much lately. He had the talk and he was so fucking relieved that it went the way it did but _he couldn’t stop shaking and_ \--

Part of him just can’t believe he’d had the balls to do it. It’s left him completely jittery.

He hugged Bro. He hugged him, albeit not very tightly, but he still did it. Part of him is proud of himself but he can’t get over it because /he hugged him, and it was /scary, but his brother had let it happened, hadn’t done anything else and that’s exactly what he didn’t realize he wanted. 

He hugged his brother. His boyfriend. 

Yeah, right now, he’s kind of just a mess of nerves and emotions, curled up on his bed, going over everything that had happened on the roof.

 

Dirk thought he was over getting butterflies just because the boy he liked hugged him. He thought he was over that _years_ ago.

He’s now realizing that, no, no he’s not.

He needs to stop this because he needs to think about the conversation he just had with his little brofriend, not having dokis over a hug.

He puts the excitement to the side, can feel it buzzing in his chest.

Dave finally talked to him about... about all that shit. About the physical aspect of their relationship. Dirk’s proud and makes a mental note to get him something as a reward.

Dave who hugged him at his own volition.

Dave who finally acknowledged his own problem, and talked about it and

Okay so he has a lot to think about it, and figures Dave does, too. It’s a little saddening because he’d wanted to watch a shitty movie with him tonight, but tonight was Important, and needs mulling over. With a final glance at his brother’s door, he pulls out his latest sewing project from its shoebox under the futon and gets to work.

 

He’s sewn up two and a half smuppets already when he hears the door open and the soft, reluctant steps from Dave’s room to the living room.

“Sup,” he says, glancing up.

  
_sup_ , answers his brother.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

Dave frowns.

_its only midnight_

“School tomorrow.”

_so the fuck what_

“Don’t give me that tone, young lady.”

_what tone im talking with my hands how the fuck could you even detect a tone there is no tone youre fucking crazy_

“I’ve been watching you talk with your hands for years. There’s a tone. Trust me.”

_jackass_

_i was coming out here to say goodnight anyways you prick_

Dirk’s lips twitch and he sets the smuppet to the side. “Then say goodnight.”

_no fuck you and your tones_

Dave turns to leave, take a step, then stops. After a moment, he turns again, flash-steps forward to his brother, brings his hands to either side of the other’s face, and kisses him gently. He pulls his hands away when he breaks away to sign,

_goodnight asshole_

Dirk smiles in return. “Night, brat. Get your ass to bed.”

Dave flips the bird, but he’s smiling as he makes his way back to his room.

As soon as the door closes, Dirk’s smile turns into something a little bit more sappy. He resumes work on the puppet, warmth in his cheeks and his heart pounding.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, something notes that his _little brother_ is making him feel like a twelve-year-old with their first crush and that he’s a sick man for it.

He’s getting better at ignoring that voice.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so yeah that was a thing that needed to happen  
> Dave is pretty much asexual and Dirk is okay with it. as hard as this thing was to write, i actually really enjoyed doing so. i'm extremely fond of this one and i hope you guys like it as much as i liked writing it c':
> 
> no but thank you so much for you patience everyone wow you guys are all great gosh fdkslfsdfasd<3 like really i read your comments and i just smile you guys are sweet  
> i don't answer because i'm shy uh;;  
> oh but one of you pointed out that i didn't even leave my tumblr like i said i would.  
> it's mama-avio.tumblr.com c:


	15. Chapter Twelve: Conversations with Lalondes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy fucking shit guys oh my god  
> i cannot even believe all of the positive feedback i've gotten for the last chapter wow! i was really worried about how everyone would take it but a lot of people seem really pleased with it and i couldn't be happier and wow wow wow thank you so fucking much  
> i've also started to have a few inquiries about the fic on tumblr so! if you'd like you could follow me [mama-avio.tumblr.com ; though my tumblr is a clusterfuck of everything so;;] or you can just follow the tag "hhan" as this is what i'll be tagging questions and whatnot with. c': thank you so much guys you are all so fucking amazing.

 

It should be mentioned that neither of the Striders had been surprised when their respective Lalondes found out about them. It’d almost been instantaneous; Dave was talking to Rose on pesterchum while Roxy had made another call after her Strider Senses were tingling.

After many calls and chats and voiced concerns and reasoning and threatening and warnings, the Lalondes have, more or less, accepted the Striders’ current situation.

Which  inevitably leads to this conversation:

“Rosie-Posie tells me that Dave finally talked to you. You must be so fuckin’ proud. _I’m_ so fuckin’ proud. Likkle Davey’s growin’ up.” Dramatic sniffling could be heard.

Dirk rolls his eyes, unable to keep a grin off his face. “Yeah, I am.”

“Like, _totes_ proud? That your little brofriend actually stepped up a-and like. Talked to you and stuff. Really bombass important stuff.”

“Yes, Roxy. I am totes proud of my younger sibling-slash-romantic interest for finally talking to me about something extremely important.”

She cackles loudly, pausing, and Dirk knows she’s taking a swig of whatever alcoholic beverage she’s nursing at the moment. “Hey, Dirky baby.”

“Yeah?”

“’Mproud of you, too.” She was making her way to Absolutely Inebriated.

“What do you mean?”

She sighs, her lips too close to the speaker, causing Dirk to flinch. “I’mma admit, baby boy. I was like. Really worried when you first told me about this thing atween you and Davey.”

“Yeah. I know you were. You only kept threatening me and chastising me for two weeks. The artwork you had your friend do of you shooting me with a laser gun got it through.”

More giggles. “Shh, shh, baby boy, shh. Mama’s tryin’ to be serious right now. We can chat about how great Cal’s art is later. I’m tryin’ to say somethin’.”

“Fine. Go ahead.”

“Anyways. I’m proud a you for bein’ a great big brother, Dirky.”

“Great big brothers don’t form illegal relationships with their little brothers.”

“Nope." She cackles loudly before taking a calming breath before continuing. "But they do take care of their little bros and make sure that nothin’ bad happens to them and stuff like that. Ever since you picked this kid up, you been thinkin’ ‘bout nothin’ but what’s best for him. Even now with this relay ra--.. relationship. An’.. An’ I know you ain’t gonna stop doin’ that. An’ I’m just.” She was starting to sniffle, getting weepy. Dirk can’t help but exhale a chuckle. “’M so prouda my boys, Dirky. Botha you.”

“...Yeah. Thanks, Rox.”

She hums, giggles then drops her glass, her cursing loud in Dirk’s ear. He thinks about how much he loves this woman, a smile on his lips.

 

Dave stares at the text on his phone, eyebrows creased.

{ **I** **am proud of you for having such an impacting discussion with your elder sibling slash  romantic interest, Dave. Tell me, when do you plan on implementing it? You know there is no rush. I was simply wondering if you had an plans.** }

She probably knows him better than the back of her hand.

{ **idk rose ive been thinking about it a lot duh and hes been careful not to really touch me or anything like he has this whole time which is fucking awesome because of course hed do that because HES fucking awesome** }

{ **Your thriving affection for him is touching, Dave. It’s also quite fucking obvious. I wonder, how many raps have you written in dedication to him?** }

{ **shut the fuck up lalonde you dont know my fuckin life** }

{ **I see. So a good majority of them, if not all, then**.}

{ **what the fuck did i just say motherfucker** }

He could feel warmth creeping up to his ears, scowling at his phone. Fucking Rose and her creepy mindreading shit.

In it, however, he could see that at least she wasn’t vehemently against this thing he had with his older _brother_ like she’d been in the first place. So that was good.

{ **In all seriousness, Dave. I know you’ve been wanting to be more physically affectionate with Dirk for a while now, from what I can gather from my notes the past few weeks**.}

{ **you werent shitting me when you said you keep journals about me were you you goddamned creep** }

{ **Of course not.** }

{ **idefk though i mean on one hand yeah i really do wanna be a gross dumb couple thats all over each other with the cuddling and other homo shit but** }

{ **But your... obvious past trauma prevents you from enjoying the thought too much, correct?** }

{ **yeah** }

{ **Dave, I told you before: there is no rush. I am positive Dirk feels the same way. Do it at your own pace, one you are comfortable with. You know you don’t have to worry about sex now, after talking to him**.}

{ **yeah i know. thanks rose** }

{ **Of course.** }

Dave feels like his mind’s a little clearer after talking to Rose about this, and he exhales softly as he puts his phone off to the side.

He wants to be able to  cuddle him and curl up with him comfortably when they watched t.v., instead of the awkward sitting side-by-side and just

It’s really frustrating and, not for the first time, Dave feels a burning hatred towards that cursed _place_ he was at before. Before Dirk. Before _this_ \--

No. He shouldn’t think about it. Thinking about it makes him quiver and shake and, inevitably, cry. Instead, he thinks about Dirk. Instead of grabbing hands pulling at his skin and his hair and his body, he thinks about Dirk who holds his hands and makes him feel safe and secure. Dirk who raised him, respects him, takes care of him, _loves_ him...

With a deep breath, he sits up from his bed and heads out of his room.

_where doin this dave where makin this happen_

 


	16. Chapter Thirteen: Touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again wow i apologize for the wait. for some reason it always feels like it's only been a couple of days since i've updated this and then WHAM WE'RE ALMOST AT A MONTH WOW I SUCK I AM SO SORRY. i've gotten a few complaints on tumblr oops sorry sorry sorryfkjdskla;; uh if tumblr doesn't work feel free to pester me, as someone has requested i post my pesterchum so here, here. benevolenceDelniente.  
> anyways i was really super nervous about this chapter, too. like really very much. fjdskf i strive to keep it realistic and sweet and yeah.  
> also it may feel like a bit of finality but i think it's still got a ways to go.  
> i know this chapter is like really super short and again i apologize; i have plans for the next chapter and yeah. uh. i guess think of the touching thing as an arc and this as the epilogue to said arc? idkfjdska;;

It starts so slowly, so very slowly.

Dave kisses his lips lightly, breathing shaky as he extends his hands to Dirk’s cheeks. They make their way down to his shoulders, trembling. 

Dirk knows better than to move, that Dave needs to do this on his own. He’s still, but not stiff; he doesn’t want Dave to think he’s closing himself off. This is fucking _important_.

Dave inclines his head, hands reaching to curl around Dirk’s neck, and he’s hugging him. Not very tightly, but it _is_ there. And Dirk’s proud. He’s so fucking proud. God damn it.

Dave tightens the hug, exhaling, heart pounding. But it’s Dirk, it’s Dirk, and not a stranger with wandering hands. It’s _Dirk_. Dirk is safe.

He doesn’t move, pressed in an almost-awkward hug with his older brother, trying to get used to it without flipping his shit. Safe, safe, he’s safe.

Dave exhales, trying to relax. Dirk takes this as his cue to maybe try hugging him back.

He’s slow about it, cautious, carefully gauging the younger Strider’s reactions every possible second.

And when it completes, something is flitting around in Dirk’s heart because he’s holding Dave, carefully, but still holding him. The one he loves.

He makes the mistake of squeezing too much too soon, feels Dave tense, and he releases him in mere seconds, mumbling a hurried apology. 

Dave takes a moment, calms down, eyes shut tightly. He’s okay, he’s _okay_. It’s only Dirk.

It’s Dirk.

A nervous sort of calm falls over him. It’s only Dirk, he repeats to himself.

He relaxes again, letting his body slack against his brother’s. Breathe, Dave. You can do it. Breathe.

They stay like this and even though Dirk can’t hug him back quite yet, it’s still so very comfortable and warm and his heart shouldn’t be beating like the wings of a hummingbird that is just too cliche-poetic and just _fuck_.

Neither are sure how long it lasted when Dave finally pulls away, body shaking slightly.

He’s feeling giddy.

_ive actually wanted to do that for a long ass fuckin time bro you dont even know_

_i mean idk if im exactly gonna be a cuddly cuddly right away the hugging thing still kinda freaks me out_

_but that was_

_well that nice_

_i mean really cool_

_i think i can dig it_

_with time_

Dirk leans over, kissing Dave's forehead softly. “Take your time, li’l man. Ain’t no rush.”

 

That night, Dave texts Rose of his success while he is overcome with emotions from the hug, from the sweet kiss, from everything. He cries quietly to himself. Dirk listens and wishes he could hold him, cease the tears. He ends up instead inviting him to strife, and Dave sleeps well that night while Dirk takes his own turn considering all that had happened earlier.

 

A week and a half later, Dave is able to hug Dirk without much apprehension.

 

Two weeks more, and Dirk is able to hug Dave back without his tensing so badly.

 

In three months,  the two are able to be close and touching when they watch movies on the futon, nearly cuddling. Nearly.

The entire experience has been terrifying for both of them; Dave afraid of the touch, terrified, always thinking about that time in his life when he didn’t have Dirk. Dirk afraid of fucking up, of sending Dave into a panic attack (which did, by the way, happen several times during these experimental months.) and feeling the guilt heavy on his shoulders, on his heart.

It’s a slow process, but it’s a process nonetheless, and Dave is making his way there.

 


	17. Chapter Fourteen: not even rose knows this shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS: description of rape and abuse. please for the love of god proceed with caution.  
> [an edit: i was just adding a couple things]

A year has passed, and Dirk’s almost able to completely forget how fucked up everything really is.

But it’s moments like this, when Dave is leaning against him, head on his shoulder, that he finds it easier to stop caring.

Dave actually touches him, now. He’ll curl up and actually sort of cuddle with him. Sort of. He’s still jumpy sometimes, but it gets better. The process is slow, but Dirk is patient. Patience has always been important when it comes to Dave.

And it’s always so very worth it, as evidenced by this very moment. Rare as they are, these moments happen. He loves these moments, tucks every single one away in a file in his memory to reflect on when things aren't so great.

He’s careful as he works on his sewing, trying not to disturb his brother too much (he’s gotten better at it; Dave has acquired the habit of taking a nap somewhere in the vicinity/around/nearly on Dirk while he sews.) as he stitches the fabric together.

He’s so fucking proud of him. He’s _so_ fucking proud, and it’s ridiculous, how proud he is of his little brother.

He pauses to look over at the top of Dave’s head, places a barely-there kiss upon it, resumes his work with the beginnings of a stupid smile.

It’s not long before he puts his sewing away, carefully, and falls asleep next to Dave. It’s so fucking cheesy and romantic and he can’t find it in him to give a single fuck.

 

He wakes up when he feels hurried movement next to him.

Dave is flailing, breathing heavy, body buzzing with panic. His hands are moving wildly, and Dirk’s not sure if he’s actually trying to sign anything or if he’s just _panicking_.

It’s been a while since Dave’s had a nightmare like this, and Dirk’s hands reach out to try to calm the boy, freezing because _shit no don’t do that._

“Dude, wake up. Dave. _Dave._ ”

He doesn’t seem to hear at first, mouth open but soundless, shaking.

“C’mon, li’l bro, _wake up and breathe.”_

And it’s as scary as it’s always been, and Dirk’s not sure if _he’s_ breathing, either.

“ _Dave.”_ His voice raises and Dave’s eyes open and he’s gasping and _Dirk really hates it when this happens it’s terrifying._

_im sorry im sorry im sorry im sorry_

“Shit, Dave, don’t apologize, shh.” His voice is softer than its usual tone, he tries to stay gentle about the whole thing (something that gets easier and easier and vaguely he remembers how he used to think he was some kind of hardened badass in his youth).

It takes a few minutes, but Dave’s breathing eventually evens out, for the most part. He’s a little calmer, though he's still trembling.

_uh i need to go to my room for a bit i just fuck im sorry bro i just cant right now_

“I, no, no, Dave, it’s okay.”

_it wont be long i swear i just need a few minutes_

“It’s cool, man. I’ll be right here, kay?”

Dave nods, gets up and slowly makes his way to his room.

Dirk watches him, waits for him, heart aching. He hears the door close and lets out a sigh. He starts to go through the mental memory bank of those Rare Moments, wondering if he should text Roxy or something before he breaks down and starts crying, himself.

 

It’s an hour before Dave comes back out.

He’s quiet, hands at his sides, walking over to the futon.

He stops directly in front of Dirk, who looks up from his phone.

_sup_

“Hey, li’l man," he sets his phone down on the coffee table, giving his attention to his boyfriend.

_um_

_you know just spent some time just kinda_

_thinkin_

_and i thought about a lot of shit like why the universe exists_

_aliens duh_

_and why the skys blue and_

_and why the governments fucked up_

_and uh_

_why im_

_why im so_

He pauses, hands frozen.

_can i tell you somethin_

_its really fuckin important and uh_

_its gonna be hard to say cause i do my best not to even think about this shit_

Dirk feels his heart sink, a cold coming over him. He thinks he knows what this is about.

“You can say whatever you want, bro. And you don’t have to say anything at all.”

Dave nods, understanding what Dirk has said, appreciative.

_i know_

_coolest fuckin bro ever i swear_

_uh_

_just_

_gimme a sec_

It takes two minutes for him to finally start signing

_the place i was in before_

_like im p sure you already know it wasnt the best childhood right yeah_

Dirk nods. It was always obvious

_and i know_

_you probably made your own theories as to what the fuck went on in there_

_and theyre probably pretty fuckin accurate_

_but i just_

_i gotta tell someone at some point_

_not even rose knows this shit_

_but uh_

He pauses, breathes, in, out, in, out.

_i dont remember my mom too much but i still kinda remember her_

_i think she mustve died_

_cause i was alone for a while before they found me_

_i don’t think i gotta tell you who the fuck they were_

_are_

_whatever_

Yeah, no. Dirk knows.

_i uh_

_shit man_

_they_

_i mean it was like annie but worse know what im sayin_

_cleanin floors wasnt the only shit they had us doin_

_and a lot of times adults would come but they didnt come for the adoption papers they came for something else get what i mean_

He’s shaking. Dirk swallows, keeps his face neutral. This was a lot harder to hear than he thought it would be.

_it didnt matter the gender long as they paid the place_

_and they were allowed to do whatever they wanted_

_and i was a favorite i was a fucking favorite it seemed like every_

_like every night i_

_was fucking summoned or something and_

_i used to be able to talk and shit but no they didnt like that_

_they didnt like it so i stopped cause it was the best way to avoid getting all beat on and shit_

He’s crying. He’s crying and Dirk’s heart is aching _he can’t handle seeing him like this and this information is filling him with utmost fury._

But he lets him finish his story, can’t interrupt him, gotta let him go at it until _he’s_ done.

_had to do what you had to do to survive you feel me_

_even if it meant sucking some strangers cock or havin everyone feel you up and you get covered in their jizz and sweat and they always yelled and there wasnt shit you can do because it was either that or they beat you more or something like you get no fuckin choice in the matter_

Dirk wants to kill. He wants to commit mass fucking murder and he’s glad he has a strong stomach because he feels fucking _sick._

_not that they dont already do that but you do what you can to make it as little as possible_

He’s _really_ crying, wiping at his eyes between words, sniffling.

_and you fuckin_

_i dont think i ever really told you_

_you fuckin saved me_

_i was scared that i was just gonna be someones exclusive whore yknow_

_but it was just you_

_and_

_man what the fuck would i have done without you_

_you fuckin saved me and i_

_thanks man_

_so much i uh_

_i really love you bro_

And he’s flung his arms around Dirk’s torso, clinging tightly, sobbing into his stomach. He doesn’t flinch when Dirk hugs him back just as tightly.

And as much as he’s trembling with rage, he’s overwhelmed with the love he has for this kid and _this is a fucking scene in a goddamned chick flick._

“I love you, too, l’il man.” Dirk kisses the top of his head again,  _gently_ , strokes his hair as he holds him closely. "I love you so fuckin' much."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phew! i am so fucking sorry this took so long. :C everything's been so fucking cray in my life and my inspiration to write fanfic kind of dwindled for a while until i got slammed into by a piano the other day with this OFF fic idea and then i was finally able to finish this! i hope it was worth the wait and thank you so much to you guys who are still with me on this.


	18. an apology, and some notes

i would like to thank everyone who has read and supported this, and apologize deeply as i know so many of you were looking forward to this being finished, and i promised i would finish it even, and i am sorry. upon reflection, **i feel i'm not entirely comfortable with this ship or writing it, despite how i depicted it, due to its abusive nature.**  [and, to be fair, i never shipped it to begin with - this started out as a gift for a dear friend of mine.] i'm orphaning the work so that you all who enjoyed it may continue to do so. then, a couple things: Latula and Terezi were going to get involved, and they were going to go about shutting down the orphanage etc etc there was gonna be more fluff i actually had the last couple chapters typed up but they got lost lol laptops right anyways once again i apologize completely solely for those who wanted this to end, and not quite because i enjoyed writing it. maybe some day i'll revisit my ace mute Dave bc that at least was fuckin rad and fun to write ;w;;;; i ask y'all respect this decision;;; and thank you again for those who enjoyed my writing. you all helped me more than you know.


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